In a Galaxy Far Far Away
by GothicCheshire
Summary: Goddamn it Jim, I'm a Jedi Knight, not a decoy!" Being the Star Trek 2009 movie with a Star Wars twist, because the author is a Super Geek. Complete!
1. Goddamn it Jim!

"Goddamn it, Jim, get your ass over here now!" The harsh southern drawl wasn't the kind of voice one would expect to come from a Jedi Knight, but that was the very person who had shouted. Standing with his arms crossed, feet apart and a prominent glare on his face was Master Leonard H. McCoy, glaring up at his apprentice, James T. Kirk, known to most as Jim. Jim looked down at his master, and with a quick look down, used the force to slow his fall as he dropped the twenty some feet onto the ground, rolling to a halt in front of his master.

"You called, oh Master mine?" The seventeen year old asked, padawan braid askew and tan robes dusty and disheveled from the maneuver. The brown-haired man rolled his hazel eyes; it didn't matter how many years they trained that kid for; he still wouldn't show proper respect. It was part of the reason he was stuck with McCoy. The both of them were on the fringe of the Jedi Order. Respected, definitely respected, but still on the fringe; they were too unorthodox to be anyplace else.

"Yeah, I did call, ya moron; we're late. We were supposed to get to the temple five minutes ago."

"Oh shit!" Jim shouted out, running off.

"Language," McCoy snapped, taking off after him. Jim swung around and gave him an apologetic half shrug at the reminder that was tempered by a 'are you really one to talk' expression, only to run faster when he turned around. Leonard gave a huff, and continued his race after his young apprentice through the crowded, underworld city streets of Coruscant. Most of the people they encountered got out of their way. They recognized the Jedi and his apprentice tearing down the street, and none of them were interested in getting in their way. They had heard stories of what happened to people who got in their way, and, although most of them were likely exaggerated, it was always better to make sure.

McCoy was a healer as well as a Jedi; that much they knew, it was the reason he spent so much time in the underworld city streets. It came with an insanely horrible bedside manner, but he was someone most of them respected. His apprentice was another matter entirely, but most of them enjoyed him immensely.

They made it to the transporters in record time, skidding to a halt as they came into view, eyes flicking over the large group of people there and sighed. "Make that fifteen minutes late…"

"Master Mace Windu is gonna be pissed…"

"We're Jedi, none of us get pissed."

"Tell that to my impressionable little mind that you infected years ago."

"Shut up, Jim."  
…..

The two of them ran up the stairs of the Jedi Temple. Tearing past the organic shapes and various works of art, that on any ordinary day would be examined extensively, their only focus on getting to the main area, and the Jedi Masters waiting for them there. They slid past various Jedi and apprentices, gaining a few amused expressions and a couple shouts of protest.

The sight of the wide double doors at the end of the corridor made them skid to a stop, bent over and panting as they tried to make themselves presentable, straightening robes and hair and trying to catch their breath. "Well, here we go."

That said, they entered quietly. "Apologies, masters; we were otherwise occupied," McCoy stated, the both of them bowing to the circle of men that sat calmly, amusement reflected on a few faces, but otherwise showing no emotion.

"I am sure you were," one of the men said; this one's voice was reflecting his amusement. Jedi Master Christopher Pike; he gave a glance at Jim, and a small wink. Jim gave him an answering smile. He was the one who had brought him into the ranks of training Jedi, and helped him get used to the fact that he was among the same people who his father had worked with before he had died.

"Busy, you often are," another of the masters said, this one was alien, completely and totally alien. Barely standing over two feet tall, he was old, much older than most of the Jedi, but he was also the one that was counted as being the strongest in the Force. Master Yoda looked at them, large eyes reflecting quiet amusement.

"Apologies, Masters, we should have moved faster."

"Unimportant," the current master of the Jedi Order said quietly, leaning forward. "We have new information regarding that ship."

Jim tensed at those words, and McCoy spared him a quick glance.

"Understand we do, your wish to know. Granted, we have, your request to be informed," Yoda stated quietly.

The two of them straightened at that, realizing exactly the kind of trust they were placing in them.

"You will take a ship to the outer rim. Master Yoda and Master Pike will be accompanying you; once there you will be met with another ship. You must be wary of what you find there, and remember to trust your instincts, trust the force. Not everything will be as it seems."

With those cryptic words, they were dismissed, Yoda and Pike standing up, leading the two out.  
…..

They had managed to transfer from one ship to the other, the one they had been on continuing its trip to its destination.

They were traveling at warp speed; McCoy was as far away from any windows as possible, and still he was given a reason to detest flying. At the moment it was in the form of his seventeen year old apprentice who was cheekily reminding him of the fact that they still had seven hours to go until they reached their destination, and kept asking him if he felt the ship shaking. Master Pike was watching them with a small amused smile.

"Will you shut up?"

"Sorry Master, I thought you'd like to know…"

"James T. Kirk, I swear on my sisters' grave that if you don't shut up, I will personally shove you out an airlock."

"You don't have a sister…"

"Go, meditate, NOW."

"Awwwwwwww!"

"MOVE!"

"Yes Master…six and a half hours left!" Jim sang out, running away as fast as possible before Bones could respond.

"Sometimes I almost want to hate him…"

"Anger?" Pike asked softly, amusement trickling into his voice.

"It's impossible to be around him for long periods of time and not feel it," McCoy answered stiffly.

"Do you regret deciding to train him?"

"Never. Jim's a good kid, he's a good apprentice, and he'll make a better Jedi. I suppose I should thank you for finding him."

"Don't. I couldn't save his father."

"It wasn't your fault, Chris; that ship came out of nowhere. Speaking of, where exactly in the outer rim are we going?"

"Tatooine. We will be meeting someone there."

"Your elusive apprentice?"

"Possibly," Pike answered with a slight smile.

"Kid got a name?"

"Yes," Pike answered, once again a hint of amusement coloring his voice.

"Will you at least tell me if the kid is male or female?"

"Male."

"Age?"

"One year older than your own."

"Eighteen then, where does he hail from?"

At that Pike's face clouded slightly. "That I can't tell you."

"Find out when we get there?"

"If you see him."

"He's really that elusive?"

"He's really that good."

McCoy looked at him and gave a nod. "I'm gonna check on Jim. Kid can't be left alone for too long or he starts chaffing. Doesn't appreciate the 'soothing benefits of meditation'."

When he was gone, Pike stood alone, turning his head to the figure that entered soon after. "Master Yoda… I fear I may be becoming prejudiced."

At that Yoda made a soft sound. "Proud of him, you have a right to be. A dangerous path it is."

Pike made a move to reply when his communicator indicated an incoming transmission. He tapped it, a small holographic figure coming into view. It was fully hooded and cloaked, its posture straight and its hands were neatly placed behind its back. As soon as they came into view it bowed. "Masters."

"Apprentice."

"I do not have much time, but I have found what he is after."

"What is it?"

"A ship. I have charted it as entering the Hoth system, but have managed to make him believe it is going to appear near Tatooine. I do not know how long I can continue to do this. His followers have simple minds, but they are many."

"You did not tell him the information yourself, did you?"

"No, Master, I made one of his followers tell him. I am as anonymous as it is possible to be in my situation. Master, we must send some of our order to Hoth; someone must be there to greet the reason he is so angry."

"You have done well, my apprentice."

"Thank you, Master," a second later, and the figure straightened further. "I must go; he is summoning me."

With that the figure bowed once more, and the transmission ended.

"So, we need to go to Hoth, in order to intercept a ship."

"An interesting development this is."

"Why does one ship, likely one man, cause enough anger to destroy a world?"

Yoda was silent for a moment. "See we will, in time."


	2. Conversations in Bars turn to Violence

Jim hunkered down next to the Asian pilot, watching the man flip switches and buttons in amusement. The Russian navigator sat at his other side and the three of them bantered together quietly, discussing the differences of a life spent on a starship and a life training to become a Jedi.

"Now don't get me wrong, being, or training to be a Jedi is awesome; you travel the galaxy helping others, and people look up to you, but… I don't know, I've always thought it might be interesting to be the captain of a starship. Plot your own course, not have people constantly looking over your shoulder to make sure you don't react in this way. I mean, it's just a little annoying."

"I could understand that, but I don't know, I've always wanted one of those swords…" the Asian man, Sulu, said with a grin.

Jim gave him a slight smirk, unclipping the lightsaber from his belt and holding it up. "I can't let you touch it; Bones would have a cow about it, but…" He held it in a way that they could see it from every angle, the two of them marveling over the sleek design. There were a couple random embellishments that definitely weren't out of place, if not slightly strange, and Jim grinned as he noticed them looking it over.

"What are those for?"

"To make it awesome. I mean, hell, it's already awesome, right? But each one's different. They're all hand crafted; how did Master put it… Right, they're all 'an extension of the one that wields them, or some such shit; it really doesn't matter, Jim; just go make the damn thing,'" Jim said with a very accurate drawl, causing the two to laugh.

"You guys aren't like usual Jedi…"

Jim clipped the saber back to his belt, leaning back a little. "Bones is first and foremost a healer. Don't get me wrong, you get on the wrong side of him and he can slice you to pieces, literally and figuratively, but that was his main area of concentrated study. He was also almost too old to be trained. But he got in. There's a couple other reasons, but none of them are important. As for me…I'm James T. Kirk."

There was a pause, the Asian and Russian trying to process. "Kirk…you're the son of… Holy shit."

"Answer your question?"

"I am zorry, zir. It vaz not our place…" Chekov said softly.

"S'alright. I'm used to it. Honestly, the only thing that would make it worse is if I was Vulcan."

At the mention of that species the two of them tensed, a very slow seeping of sadness sliding onto their faces, their eyes hooding. "Aye, that would make it worse."

"Vhy vere ze Jedi not able to help?"

"We tried. It was too big, it was too much. There was something, someone on that ship…"

"You were there?"

"I was. I felt it. It was…dark."

"What do you mean?"

"We're Jedi, right? We use the Force; personally I think that's a really stupid name, but that doesn't really matter. What matters is the fact that we can _sense_ things. Things like people, events…traumatic possible moments. Some can see the future, most can't, but when we were there, something on that ship, that HUGE ship, was so dark… I'm not sure what the hell it was, but my God, that thing wanted nothing more than for that entire world to die. Everything, everyone… I watched them all die, and I couldn't do a thing," Jim whispered finally.

Sulu and Chekov looked at each other. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, not our fault. Half the fleet was destroyed then, and still he managed to blow up that planet and get away. We saved a lot of them… But still, there were so many…" Jim sighed, shaking his head sadly. "I've never seen them fail that badly."

Sulu poked him. "You said it wasn't your fault." He gave him a glare, and Jim blinked, pulling back from the rather vicious look in the Asian's eyes, then Sulu broke into a grin, and Jim burst out laughing.

"I don't even know why I'm laughing!" Jim said, grinning.

"Enjoy it. Moments of random laughter are the best ones."

"People get to look at you like you are crazy," Pavel said with a grin and a nod.

"We probably are."

Their bantering was interrupted by a grumbling voice entering the bridge. Jim straightened from his slouch, swinging around to regard his master quietly, standing up and bowing. McCoy waved it away in annoyance, looking around at the viewscreens with a sick expression. The rush of the starscape flying past them was something that definitely didn't make him feel comfortable.

"Almost there, sir; you need anything?"

"Romulan ale would be nice…" Bones grumbled under his breath, waving Sulu's offer off and trying to ignore the small voice in his head whispering how they were all going to die in an unspeakable crash.

Jim walked over to his master, leaning against the door and sighing. "Master Pike and Yoda are…"

"Somewhere I don't know; I'm not their keeper," McCoy answered, shrugging. Jim sighed. "Soon as we're there, we're beamin' down to the planet. Pike and Yoda will meet us there later."

"When the suns aren't up?"

"Exactly."

They were quiet for a while, falling into quiet meditation. Jim always found this part of training to be mundane and tedious, but he had to admit that it helped him feel lighter afterwards, and definitely calmer. McCoy used it as an excuse to sleep.

The calm was broken by Sulu's voice. "Exiting warp in five, four, three, two, one…" That said the ship dropped out of warp, right in front of a large desert planet. "And, here we are, sirs, Tatooine. We'll stay in orbit. You need us; you know how to contact us." He stood up and bowed them out.

Master Yoda was standing near the transporter pad, leaning on his cane calmly, his eyes closed, and his mouth set in a line. He appeared to be deep in thought, possibly meditating, but as soon as they took a step inside his eyes flickered open, the large orbs looking up at them, a slight smile tugging at his mouth.

"Master Yoda…" McCoy said, nodding his head respectfully, sending a quick wary look at the transporter. "Where we headed exactly?"

"Mos Eisley you must go to; meet someone there you will."

"Will they be friendly?"

"Not sure we are, but we know you must meet them."

"Why is everything so vague with you people?" Bones finally groaned out, moving to the transporter pad, Yoda's soft laughter trailing after him.

"Get your ass up here, Jim."

"Whatever you say, Bones…" He hopped up on the transporter, giving a grin to Yoda.

"I can't believe I'm askin' for this…" Bones grumbled. "Energize…"

Yoda smiled at them, and bowed, using the force to activate the controls and beam them down. They were enveloped in a gold rush of energy, their atoms ripped to shreds only to reassemble on the ground in a rush of sand and desert and HEAT. God, was there _heat_.

"Of course, we get to go to the planet that has two suns…"

Jim laughed at his master, shading his eyes as he looked into the desert and the glint of the city on the horizon. "We're in our robes that are known to keep us cool, and aren't we Jedi? Heat is all in the miinnd." Jim wiggled his fingers in an eerie sort of way, grinning at him mischievously.

McCoy snorted. "Sure it is, until you get heatstroke and pass out."

They laughed, heading to that shining glint in the distance, unaware that all the time they were walking, joking and laughing, they were being watched.

Mos Eisley was first and foremost, a spaceport, but it was also a hive of some of the nastiest, most deplorable individuals in the known universe. Scum from all over the galaxy found themselves there, and those that did manage to get there all gravitated to one of the most popular cantinas on Tatooine. Chalmun's Cantina, or more often, Mos Eisley Cantina; neither name was overly creative, but it got the job done, and the Cantina itself was decent, if not dangerous for those who were not on their guard.

But if a person was looking for someone, that person was likely to be found in that Cantina, and with that in mind, Jim and McCoy made their slow way to it, attracting various glances of anything from suspicion to outright distrust. Jim and McCoy split up inside the building, smoke clouds rising, the smells of various alien sweat and multiple liquors mingling in the air. A band was playing at the far end, and Jim moved to one side of the bar, Leonard moving to the back. He was planning on actually _getting_ a drink; he'd work his way up to it.

Jim moved past various people, never making direct eye contact, using his senses to feel his way through it, and then he saw her. Dark-skinned with long brown hair and dressed in a flatteringly-cut uniform, she was definitely someone he was going to talk to. He sidled up next to her easily, her brown eyes flicking over to him. She took one look at the brown robes and the braid and raised a single eyebrow.

"Little out of your district, aren't you?"

"I could say the same to you; what's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this? Little dangerous, isn't it?"

The woman laughed, "I can take care of myself."

"You certainly can…"

She laughed again, "Aren't you a little young, hun?"

Jim gave her a smile, a very practiced, very interested smile. "Only as young as you want me to be."

She gave another scoff, raising an eyebrow at him. "You really know how to lay on the charm, I'll give you that much. Even though most of your group doesn't know a thing about charm; they're all a bunch of thirty-year-old virgins, aren't they?"

"A bunch of thirty-year-old virgins that don't have to touch you to make you have the time of your life."

"Interesting thought, but no…"

"This guy bothering you?"

Jim blinked, rolling his eyes and turning to face the group of ugly aliens; two of them appeared to be Klingon and one was a Duro. The Duro was the obvious spokesperson, who stood behind them. "Easy, cupcake, we were just talkin'."

"Kid's right, and if he were bothering me I would be able to handle it…" the woman started, but the man pushed forward.

"I don't think you realize what part of the galaxy you're in, Jedi scum; we don't appreciate you here."

"Yeah, well to be honest I don't really appreciate the offence to my nose; don't you guys bathe or something?"

The large being reared up, his lips curling in a snarl. "I don't think you've noticed, but there's four of us and one of you."

"Get one more and it'll be a fair fight," Jim stated with a cheeky smile, shrugging. Next thing he knew he had been grabbed by the front of his robes and flung into a table, crashing to the floor and sending the drinks everywhere. He rolled to his feet as the two aliens who he had sent to the floor stood up as well, glaring and hissing at him. "Greaaat…"

McCoy blinked at the sounds of violence, and looked up to see his padawan right in the middle of it. The kid was doing a good job of defending himself, never reaching to touch his lightsaber, using the Force and his own two fists and his not-unimpressive fighting style. But it was only one person fighting what seemed to be eight, and he sighed, rolling his eyes, and stomped into the fray, his lightsaber humming to life and gaining their attention. They took one look at the obviously senior Jedi who was glaring at them and had a nasty expression on his face, and an activated blue lightsaber held in a loose, but obviously warning hand and they backed away.

"Everyone OUT," McCoy barked. "If you're interested in stickin' around you best be ready for a fight, because I'm frankly sick and tired of your shit, and if you don't let go of that boy right now, I will personally make sure you do, with or without your hand connected to your body."

They tensed, and slowly each one of them left, the bar manager watching the proceedings with a glare on his face. When they were gone there was one left, a Klingon. He had a large stain on his shirt that was likely due to the drinks that had flown in the air during Jim's first meeting with a table.

The Klingon stared, growling, hands fisted in Jim's robe, an expression of complete and total loathing on his face. "What will you do if I rip his arm off?"

Jim glared, his fingers twitching over his lightsaber. "I'd slice your head off."

The Klingon glared at him. "Don't think you're in much of a position to do anything."

"You'd be wrong…" He used the Force, lifting a tray from the floor, positioning it behind the Klingon's head.

"Oh yeah?"

The tray swung out, smashing into his skull, causing him to fall to the ground limp, his hands releasing their hold on Jim's robes as he crumpled.

"Yeah."

McCoy rolled his eyes, the lightsaber deactivating as he walked forward to his apprentice, and looked at the bartender. "We'll clean up; sorry about the mess."

"You better…" he hissed out. "Jedi, thinking you can go everywhere and do anything…"

"Hey, I said we'd clean up. Just be glad we're not like the other assholes who wind up getting into fights around here and don't actually pick up after their mess."

"'Other'?" the man scoffed, smiling slightly.

"We did start a fight in your bar; I think that justifiably sticks us in the 'asshole' category."

The bartender laughed, moving out from behind the counter, "Wuher at your service," he stated calmly. "You're Jedi, so I doubt it, but can I interest you in a drink?"

"Romulan ale; as for this stuff… Jim, get your ass in gear."

Jim was bleeding from the nose and his lip was swollen and bleeding, but nodded easily. Wuher looked at him in slight surprise when he used the Force to right tables and chairs, sitting down on one of them. McCoy walked over and pulled a couple tissues from his ever-present black medical bag. "Here, tilt your head back."

"Thanks."

"What did you do, you idiot?"

"I don't know…"

"Sure you do, you just won't tell me."

"That might be true…"

McCoy sighed and walked over to the bar, accepting his glass with a nod.

"So, why are a couple Jedi in our quadrant of the universe?" Wuher paused and after flicking a glance at Jim and seeing that he was occupied gave McCoy a slightly amused look. "I must say that it really is good to see you again, my old friend…" Wuher gave him a shifty smile that didn't reach his cold brown eyes, and McCoy nodded in recognition.

"I'd say the same for you, but for whatever reason my life expectancy seems shorter each time I do." Wuher laughed. "Look, we're not here for a chat, we're here on business. We're lookin' for someone. Heard that they're in this part of the universe, and came to check it out. You keep your fingers on the pulse of this place, Wuher; you noticed anything off?"

Wuher snorted. "A lot of things are off about this place, but there's someone new in town. Doesn't come here often, but he's different than most. Talks funny, stands strange, never takes his hood off." His voice was calm and McCoy nodded, taking a sip of the burning liquid, not really paying much attention. Wuher always went off on these sorts of things. But then he said something else. "He's also got a lightsaber."

McCoy almost spewed his drink. He choked it down and looked at him closely. "You're sure?"

"How could I not be? Took it out and threatened one of my customers. One of the nastiest red colors I've ever seen."

McCoy tensed at the mention of the color. "Do you know where he's stayin'?"

"I don't pay that much attention, McCoy…"

"I shouldn't have thought so…" Leonard answered, waving it off. "But I need to know where."

"I could be persuaded…"

McCoy glared, and tapped his credit chip on the counter, watching those beady brown eyes examine it closely. "Persuasion."

Wuher licked his lips. "He's a wanderer, doesn't stay in one place for long. Last I heard he was heading to Mos Espa. He's looking for someone too. He's also just left town…"

"Shit." With that he whirled around, pointing at Jim and indicating the door. "MOVE!"

"HEY! WHAT ABOUT MY MONEY?"

"You should have told me after I paid you; besides, your ale wasn't that good anyway."

He left the credit chip with the designated amount on the floor. He'd find it later.


	3. The Difficulties of Spying

Jim was itchy, his lower face was covered in blood, and the sand was sticking to it. McCoy heard him grumbling quietly and sighed before pulling out some sterilization wipes and tossing them to his padawan. Jim grinned at him and rubbed the blood off. The suns were setting behind them, the first of the three moons raising overhead, the heat fading almost as soon as the suns began disappearing over the horizon.

"Great, the planet even has mood swings, damn it."

Jim gave him a look and sighed. "I'm sorry, Master…"

"I didn't even say anythin' to you, kid; why the hell do you think you have to apologize?"

Jim gave him a slight snicker. "Because you only talk to yourself when I'm around when I piss you off."

McCoy grunted, shaking his head slightly. "Okay, yeah, I'm pissed. What the hell did you do?"

"I was bored, there was this girl, and I talked to her; next thing I know there's this big group of aliens…"

But McCoy heard only one thing. "Girl, oh Jim…don't do this to yourself…"

"It wasn't anything, just a conversation…"

"Jim, stop." He turned around, looking at him closely. "You can't do that. Romantic relationships aren't allowed, and I know for a fact that your conversation was definitely heading towards something that was close to it."

"It wasn't really romantic, more 'I can blow your mind'?"

McCoy sighed, shaking his head. "Look, it's dangerous to fall into that trap."

"And you speak from experience, don't you?" Jim snapped.

Leonard froze, eyes widening in shock, and Jim seemed to crumble.

"I'm sorry, Master. That was uncalled for and a very low blow. I let my anger get the best of me."

McCoy sighed, "Yeah, I speak from experience." He said finally, ignoring his apology, "So you're going to have to trust me, okay?"

"You would be wise to listen to the words of your master; he does know what he is talking about. Emotional ties can be very dangerous, especially when they are severed." The voice was quiet, cultured, and they whirled around, shocked and horrified to realize that they hadn't felt him coming. The figure their eyes locked with was clothed in black from head to toe; his hood covered his head and he stood with his arms crossed, perfectly straight.

"Who the hell are you?"

"That depends on who is asking, and their reasons for asking."

"Yeah, well, how about this for a reason; you should tell us due to the fact that you were eavesdropping, buddy," Jim snarled.

"Illogical; if I were truly 'eavesdropping' I would likely have continued to do so without gaining your attention. Therefore, I merely overheard; I was planning on something else."

"Oh, yeah, like what?"

"Merely inquiring why you were looking for me."

"How do you know we were looking for you exactly?"

"I do not believe many others on this planet hold a lightsaber in their possession." The quiet words, calm voice, and the sudden wave of absolute malevolence that rolled off of him were enough to bring the two Jedi into fighting stances, robes tossed to the side, lightsabers humming to life.

"Alright, who are you, what are you, and what do you want?"

"I am myself, I do not want anything from you, and as for what I am…" The hood was lowered, and in the light of the three moons they could just see the pale face, the dark lines that were burned into it, black weaving along otherwise creamy white skin, and two pointed ears that split his hairline cleanly. He shrugged the robe off easily.

"Romulan…" McCoy gasped out quietly.

The man's head tilted to the side, and his hands moved up, two lightsaber hilts flying to his hands and activating, red blades humming to life and crossing in front of his face. "Sith."

The word sent a rush of fear up their spines, bringing with it the realization that this man had been on that ship, had helped murder all those people.

Jim launched himself at the dark warrior. Green and red blades met with a crackle and a whine, the crimson blade pushing its Jedi opponent back before a single black boot connected with his chest, sending him flying.

McCoy charged in at that, blue saber swinging in an arc to connect to the other red. The Sith ducked and swung with his other red blade, forcing him to retreat and parry, his own blade's thrust batted away with only a flicker of movement. They pulled back, circling, and McCoy went on the offensive, only to have his blade knocked aside. This being was strong, and he was well-trained in the Jedi arts at that.

McCoy changed his grip and unleashed attack after attack, swooping, dodging, lunging, and slicing, each of them blocked, ducked under, and twisted out of. Jim re-entered in at that moment, swinging the blade at his head, only to have the Romulan duck backwards, and send his own blade at Jim's chest, making him change the swing into a parry.

Their deadly dance continued, McCoy's style more brusque and heavy, the Romulan's more businesslike and deadly. Jim was a whirlwind, taking McCoy's style and turning it into something that was half dance and half slice-and-dice. But still, they weren't able to get close enough to contact. Every motion was countered and dodged, those two lightsabers easily and simply slicing through every defensive or offensive move they could make.

McCoy backed up and used the Force to whip up a small sandstorm. He hurled it at the being, trying to knock him off balance, only for him to charge through with impunity and swing a single red lightsaber at his face. He could just see the translucent film of some sort of inner eyelid covering his eyes and gave a soft curse. Desert born beings, desert born…

Jim intercepted that lightsaber, and swung under and around it, only to be hit in the solar plexus with a fist, sending him doubling over and coughing. The Romulan didn't press his advantage, moving back to McCoy and swinging another blade, the two of them clashing, blades humming, their heat scorching skin as it got too close.

McCoy remembered when the lack of counterweight used to hamper him, now; now there was no way to survive anything that would hamper him. He wasn't given a choice.

The emotionless exterior of his opponent was disconcerting, and yet its eyes seemed to glow with an inner amusement, silently laughing and mocking him. No flippin' way.

McCoy lunged suddenly, making the Romulan jerk back, the lunge turning into a swing that was parried and shoved, the other crimson saber coming, only to be blocked by the green of his apprentices' blade. They fought together; any opportunity to press into the impressive defense of the Romulan was made effective, as it was he seemed to be tiring. They pounced on that weakness, attacking at once, not giving him a chance to gain ground or retreat.

Finally it paid off; Jim saw a weakness and exploited it, kicking him backwards. In a split second, he was swiftly pinned him to the ground with the points of both their lightsabers at his chest as a sudden piercing whistle made them freeze. They looked over, eyes catching sight of a worried Master Pike and a Master Yoda who had activated his own lightsaber. "DON'T!"

They backed up. "What?"

"That's my apprentice."

Three words and they had never been more shocked in their lives; Yoda deactivated his lightsaber, and the Romulan stood up slowly. He gave them a bow, a quiet "Master," and fell to the ground.

McCoy dropped next to him, instincts as a healer in full force, reaching out automatically, touching the black of his tunic, only to pull it back wet. Green liquid covered his hand and he recognized it immediately as blood, copper based. There would be time for explanations later; for now he needed to make sure he lived. "We need to get him to the ship. Get them to beam us to sickbay." They moved around them, standing in a position to more effectively be beamed.

They requested beam-up immediately, McCoy ripping through the black cloth covering the pale torso, just as the transporter beam snagged them.

There was a group of people waiting, and they automatically helped McCoy get him off the floor and onto a biobed, where it immediately began caterwauling. The reason for the blood became apparent as they tore the tunic off - old half-healed wounds torn open during the fight. The tattoos that covered his face continued along his torso, and that was when they realized they weren't tattoos so much as burns.

"I don't know how to heal a Romulan…"

"Vulcan. He's Vulcan."

"Well, shit…"

The treatment lasted longer than they had hoped, but his readings were finally the same as those on file. They were silent for a while, simply watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, McCoy staring at him and slowly coming to realize how _young_ he looked. That's when he remembered that he was supposedly only eighteen. What was going on here?

"He named himself as Sith; does that…put a damper on anything?" McCoy asked finally, the thoughts in his head finally turning too loud to contain any longer.

"He is Vulcan," Pike answered as though that was the only possible answer, and truly, it was.

Vulcans were walking conduits for the Force, able to bend it to their will without proper training; those that were trained were some of the deadliest beings in the galaxy. They were mainly peaceful, following the teachings of a long-dead Vulcan, controlling emotion to make sure they did not destroy themselves or others. But that did not change the fact that they made some of the most dangerous beings in the known galaxy, if they weren't all so damn peaceful and scientifically inclined.

That was precisely what had made their loss so tragic. They were peaceful, and had made more scientific advances than most species put together. They were also a Jedi's closest ally, but the planet had been attacked without warning; the odds against them had been astronomical, and even their great connection to the Force had not saved them.

It made Jim sick to his stomach, looking down at a member of that once so peaceful and gentle race and seeing him torn and scarred, clothed in black from head to toe, and claiming to be a member of a group that were sworn enemies of the Federation and the Jedi, of all they stood for.

"Why did he call himself that?"

"Call himself what?"

"A Sith. Why did he claim to be a Sith?"

Yoda made a thoughtful noise, looking at the ground. "Difficult, his path is. To cling to the light as tightly as he has while walking in the dark. Amazing it is."

"What is his path?" McCoy snapped. "We almost killed him, you sent us to meet him…we obviously have a right to know."

"He is our spy, our one link into that ship. He has performed admirably. Every single piece of information we have acquired has been from him. Spock is…" Pike started.

"So that's his name…Spock."

"Yes."

"He's eighteen, and he's our one link into the ship of a madman," McCoy said softly, scoffing.

"He's also the only and best one we have."

"He's a boy."

"Don't get started with me about how young he is. I'm perfectly aware of that, probably more than you are."

"I'm just saying that we should be able to get someone…"

"There is no one else. That 'boy' is it. He wasn't even supposed to be a part of it…"

"What?"

"Okay, I'm explaining this wrong, obviously…" Pike sighed. "Alright, Spock is a Vulcan, we've established that, but what do any of you actually know about Vulcans?"

"They're strong," McCoy started.

"Too flexible for their own good," Jim added.

"Have an inner eyelid…" McCoy said.

"OH, oh, I know! They have pointy ears…" Jim said with a grin. McCoy hit him.

"Please, in general."

"They're walking Force conduits."

"Have a higher midichlorian count than almost any other race."

"They have a high focus on logic and controlling their emotions."

"Um…"

"That's it really…"

"You missed a very important one."

"Oh yeah?"

"They're telepathic. Touch telepaths primarily, but that does not change the fact that they are connected to each other, parents, siblings, mates… Do you see what I'm getting at?" McCoy and Jim were staring at him with wide eyes.

"He felt when the planet died."

"Billions of lives destroyed in an instant. He was on a mission; he felt it, followed it, and was instantly picked up. From what he tells me Nero..."

"Nero? That's that guy's name?"

"Yes, and he really _is_ Romulan. Anyway, he originally was going to have him destroyed, but he chose something else. Tempting him, trying to get a Vulcan to want to plot revenge, fight against the Federation that failed to save his homeworld. He accepted, masking everything, requesting a position as a double agent."

"Wait, what?"

"He's a triple agent."

"How do you know that he's not actively working with that guy?"

Pike tapped his head.

"Mental links…right."

"Precisely."

"Do you know how dangerous that is for that kid?"

"That's why Yoda acts as his primary trainer."

That made the two of them blink, look at the diminutive Jedi, and then turn their eyes back to Spock. "Oh, well. That does explain things…"

They sighed, looking over at the Vulcan quietly. "One more question, why did he fight us?"

"That kid always has his reasons, trust me, he always has his reasons…"


	4. The Multiple Abilities of Vulcans

They fell asleep in the sickbay, scattered around on biobeds and chairs, waiting for the Vulcan to wake. Everything was still, the soft beeping from the biobed in time with the Vulcan's heart something of a calm metronome, but after a while it began speeding up. McCoy was the first to notice, his training as a medical doctor holding firm. He stirred, rubbing at his face sleepily before forcing himself upright quickly.

Spock was stirring in his sleep, whispered words mingled with the baring of teeth, and McCoy reached down carefully, touching his shoulder and shaking him. "Hey, wake up…come on…"

Spock bolted upright, hand moving out automatically, McCoy jolting backwards from the sudden Force push, realizing right before he smashed into the wall that that _might_ not have been one of his better ideas… Spock stood upright, body tense, and then seemed to realize what he had done, automatically dropping to his knees. "I apologize."

McCoy took a breath, pushing himself off the wall, cracking his back. "S'alright, I should know better." He walked back over, helping the Vulcan upright and pushing him back on the biobed gently.

"Nevertheless, it was not my intention to harm you."

"No, your intention was to cut my head off, right?"

Spock looked up at him, tilting his head to the side. "If it had been, you would be without it now."

McCoy snorted. "Got a bit of an ego?" Spock looked up at him closely. "Don't get me wrong you probably deserve a bit of one; you're good enough…"

"McCoy, I do not believe you understand. Ego is a human concept; I merely state facts. Should I have wanted your head I would have it."

His name passing those lips caused him to jolt, but then the rest of his words connected and he narrowed his eyes. "Oh yeah? Seems to me like you have a bit of a respect issue, and an ego."

"Was I being disrespectful? I apologize; it was not my intention."

"What was your intention then?"

"To correct your false assumptions," Spock answered in the same monotone his voice had been in the entire time, and that made McCoy's blood boil.

"Why you…"

A soft chuckling caught their attention; they turned to see Master Yoda leaning on his cane, laughing softly. "Argue with a Vulcan, you should not…" he finally said, smiling. "Have all the answers they do."

"Incorrect, though we do know…" He paused, pursing his lips just slightly. "Sarcasm." He nodded his head once, and leaned back on the biobed slightly.

"Experiencing any discomfort?" McCoy asked, ignoring the past conversation, concentrating on the health of his patient.

"Nothing that is not manageable."

McCoy glared at him. "Why manage it when I can fix it?"

Spock looked up at him calmly. "You are aware of what I do, are you not?"

McCoy hissed through his teeth - pain tolerance. He was building up his pain tolerance. "Alright, fine. But if it becomes too much…"

"I promise to let you know, McCoy."

"How do you know my name?"

An eyebrow rose. "My master knows you, and requested that I meet with you."

"Link?"

"No, it is not that invasive, merely something that can be used to locate, provide alerts on health…mental state."

"I thought you said it wasn't invasive?"

"It is easily dissolved without harm to either party."

"Ah."

Spock was looking at the still-quietly snoring Pike, an eyebrow rising slightly. Yoda picked up a tricorder, holding it out. A moment later it was lifted from his hands gently, suspended in the air carelessly. McCoy watched in shock. He had known that they were known as Force conduits, but the ease with which he channeled it was incredible. He didn't even use his hands to focus the energy, simply let it flow.

A second later the tricorder went sailing, directly towards Christopher Pike.

"HEY! THAT'S EXPENSIVE EQUIPMENT!" McCoy snapped, only to have Pike open an eye, raise his hand, and stop the tricorder inches in front of his face. Spock seemed to let go, and Pike twisted his wrist, the tricorder slowly taking itself apart in front of him. A moment later he shoved each individual piece at Spock. McCoy's mouth dropped when Spock calmly reached his hand up, stopping them all, and slowly began piecing it back together, dropping his hand and tilting his head slightly, eyes focused on it.

McCoy watched each piece slide home, and then the top closed in place with a snap. "McCoy," Spock said, indicating it. Leonard just snagged it, fiddling with it quietly and when he realized it was fully operational he gave them a disgusted look.

"That your definition of training?"

"Hardly; that was my wake up call," Pike answered. He stood up then, stretching, and nudged Jim with his foot. Jim jolted upright immediately, swinging his head back and forth, only to lock eyes on Spock, an eyebrow rising in consideration.

"You're up!" Jim said in excitement, sitting upright, only to wince, pressing at his chest. "You also hit hard!"

Spock's eyes narrowed slightly in something that could have been called concern. "I apologize; however, you were attempting to decapitate me. I wished for a little more time before you could attempt again."

"Fair enough…" Jim said, rubbing at his chest some more before McCoy gave a curse. When he pulled his tunic back a little so he could see they were surprised at the large purple bruise.

"Damn…"

Spock pushed himself upright. "I did not mean to cause such a large wound. I had forgotten how fragile humans were…"

Pike snorted. "Well, I'd say you're due for another reminder." He stood up then, cracking his back. "Will you release him?"

McCoy gave Spock a glance, and gave a single nod. "Yeah, just nothing too flashy for a while."

"You forget who his trainer is…"

Yoda raised an eyebrow and stood up, leaving the room. Spock stood upright, pulling his tunic on and straightening it, and then followed the diminutive Jedi out.

"Oh no…"

"Holy shit, he's trained by Yoda?"

"In lightsaber technique, yes…"

"I want to watch," Jim said immediately, and stood up, backing away from McCoy who shouted after him threateningly, waving a hypo in the air. "Sorry, Master, gotta go! This is gonna be awesome!"

"It's unlikely they'll really do much; Spock will need time to heal…" Pike said, trying to help McCoy keep some control over the situation.

It didn't work.

Jim ran away, waving his hand over his head before trying to catch up with the Vulcan and Yoda.

"I hate it when he does that," McCoy groaned, tossing the hypo to the side.

When Jim caught up to them, he was almost disappointed to see that they had entered the gym, but appeared to be in simple meditation, but then he took a decent look at the way the Vulcan meditated. He sat in the traditional form, that was true, but he seemed to collect objects. Everything from weights to chairs hovered around him, floating in midair. Yoda was off to the side a little, watching through amused eyes.

Next second, Yoda had activated his green lightsaber with a hum. Spock's eyes snapped open, his own lightsabers flying into his hands just in time to block the ridiculously fast swing that went to his neck. He pushed off, slicing into air, the small Jedi Master way too quick to catch. He ducked the slice, rolled forward, and managed to get to his feet swinging around behind him and parrying the next blow.

Jim's mouth dropped as they continued, Yoda practically flying through the air, using the Force to fly over Spock's head, jump around him, constantly swinging and parrying, and Spock almost always forced into the retreat. But all the while they were doing that, the objects Spock was levitating never fell. Yoda would occasionally make use of them in his deadly dance, but more often Spock would use them to block whatever swing he wouldn't have been able to intercept in time. Sulu was standing off to the side, his jaw slack.

"That's just not fair…" he whispered to Jim when he walked around to stand next to the pilot.

"It's insane, isn't it?" Jim watched with keen eyes, trying to detect any similarities between the two. Spock was trained by Yoda; there should be some. Then he saw it: any time Yoda landed, his stance was exactly the same as the Vulcan's. Both of them were light on their feet, and while Spock didn't make any attempt to use the Force to propel him, he always seemed to be just about to. It was slightly surprising for a logical and, more importantly, grounded race.

Spock ducked under a swing, and moved to turn around, only to be stopped by the ominous hum of a lightsaber pointing directly at the small of his back.

That was when Spock used Yoda's technique, launching himself across the room, only to change momentum, flip over, and swing. Jim's mouth dropped, the both of them flipping and twisting as though they were in zero gravity. Yoda still caught him, and Spock deactivated his lightsabers, dropping to his knees, the hovering objects coming to rest all around them. He breathed in, breathed out, and Yoda nodded once.

"Improved you have… But much to learn, you still have." Spock looked up at him, eyes requesting teaching. "Falling far too into the Force, you are. Losing touch with the outside, you also are."

Spock nodded quietly. "Understood."

Yoda looked at him closely, and Spock gave a small twitch at the corner of his mouth. "I believe."

"Difficult it is as a Vulcan, but it is something you must learn."

He left, the cane kept with him. Spock looked over at Jim and Sulu, black eyes tracing their awed expressions, and stood up; everything flew up with him, and with a spread of his hand replaced themselves in their proper places. Those that were broken were moved to a small pile after being crushed and made smaller. They would be cleaned up later.

"Spar with me?" Jim requested as Spock moved to leave.

Spock blinked at him, tilting his head to the side. "You would not win."

"I know, but I'd learn…"

The Vulcan stared at him closely, and slowly nodded. "Later, I have much to report to Master Pike; until then…" He lifted his hand up in something that Jim recognized as a traditional Vulcan greeting or farewell. "Live long and prosper."

Jim tried to force his hand into the proper position, Sulu doing so as well. "I can't remember the answer…"

"Peace and long life," Spock said quietly.

Jim gave him a look, and slowly nodded. "Peace and long life."

With that Spock left with a swish of black robes.

"Rather strange, isn't he?"

"He's a Vulcan."

"In other words, he has a right to be…"


	5. Realizations of a Tragedy

Jim leaned next to McCoy. "How come we don't ever have epic duels?"

McCoy sighed, straightening slightly, and then looked at his padawan closely. "Jim… I don't think I ever told you, but I'm sorry that you have me as a master."

Jim blinked, "What?"

"Look, you're never gonna be trained in the way that many people believe you should be. I'm different, you're different… People like Spock…well, he's definitely different, but he's being trained by two of the most renowned Jedi in the field. You can't expect me to be able to teach you in the same way. I'm sorry; it's just the way it is."

"What on earth are you talking about? I don't have a problem with you being my master; I just wondered why we didn't spar as much…"

"Oh…" McCoy grumbled.

"Wait…are you feeling self-conscious? Holy shit! You're feeling self-conscious! This is unbelievable!"

"Yeah well, don't rub it in; I just thought…"

"Bones, look, I think it would be cool to be trained by someone like Yoda for once, really truly cool. But… I think I'd prefer you anyway. We don't fit, so it's nice to stick together, right? Besides, I think that Spock kinda chafes under it."

"You mean I'm gonna be stuck with another outcast male teenager? Perfect! Just what I always wanted! More hormones and testosterone-fueled insanity!"

Jim laughed. "He's a Vulcan. He'd probably behave himself better than you do!" He paused. "Actually, come to think of it, that's not saying much…"

McCoy used the Force to push his padawan over the edge of the railing they were sitting on, Jim shouting all the way down before he used the Force to slow his fall and land on his feet. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?" he shouted at his master, looking up at him angrily.

"CONSIDER IT TRAINING!" McCoy shouted back.

"I HAAAAAAAATE YOUUUU!" Jim shouted in reply sarcastically.

"That is a very dangerous human emotion…" The soft smooth voice behind him made McCoy jolt, falling forward off the railing head first. He flipped to his feet, slowing himself and swinging around to glare up at the Vulcan that had appeared out of nowhere.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR? YOU POINTY-EARED BASTARD, SNEAKIN' UP ON A MAN LIKE THAT!" He continued shouting, and Spock sighed, took a step onto the railing, and then took another, directly off. He spread his hands slightly, and seemed to hover before dropping himself to the ground lightly.

"Apologies; I have not been around humans in some time."

"A Romulan would have heard you…" Jim filled in.

"Precisely."

"So, what do you want exactly?" McCoy's tone was gruff and harsh, and he crossed his arms, glowering at the teen angrily.

Spock blinked, looking at McCoy quietly. "You are openly hostile. I find it quite refreshing." McCoy's mouth dropped. "Most Romulans would not bother to inform you of the fact that they dislike you; they would simply place a knife in your cranium. It is a novelty to be able to tell a person's true opinion of you."

McCoy's mouth opened and closed, Jim trying desperately not to laugh at his master, who he had never seen so flustered in his life. Then he noticed that those black eyes were focused on him again. "You wished to spar. I have time now; the gymnasium?"

"Yeah, sounds great!" Spock inclined his head and the two teens left, leaving McCoy with his mouth hanging open.

"I don't dislike you!" he finally called out into an empty room, his eyes slightly narrowed. "Damn it…"  
…

"So, how are we going to do this exactly… I know you can kill me without a second's thought now, so should we like…"

"I will enforce handicaps on myself; I will also only use one lightsaber."

"Handicaps? Just one? Oh come on, you don't need to do that…" Jim complained.

"…" Spock was silent for a moment, staring at him. "You admit that I can kill you without a second's thought and yet you do not wish for handicaps."

"The lightsabers are at their lowest setting; the only thing it's gonna do is sting."

Spock's slanted eyebrows pinched together slightly. "I am not concerned about that so much as the apparent disregard you have for your health …"

Jim threw his head back and laughed. "Spock, you're a spy for the Federation against one of the most powerful enemies we've ever known, and you act as a spy for THAT enemy against the Federation, and you're telling me that I disregard MY health? You use two lightsabers."

"One."

"Two."

"Single."

"Double…"

"Very well, but permit me this…" With that he activated the both of them, and, pressing the hilts together, connected them with a twist of his wrist, spinning the doubled lightsabers into a guard position in front of him. Jim's mouth was open.

"That's just not FAIR!"

"You did design them by hand…"

"Yeah, well! I didn't...I just…it's not…uh!" He lashed out with his own lightsaber; the blow was parried and Spock kicked him backwards. "OUCH, what the hell, man?"

"You left yourself wide open; any time you do that I am going to take advantage it."

"Yeah well…you aren't my master."

"A fact that I am most glad for." With that he spun in, the two of them slicing and twisting, their techniques fluid, Jim's more graceful than his mentor's, red and green clashing and sparking. By the time they were done Jim was panting, bent over and exhausted, dripping sweat. Spock in contrast appeared cool and aloof, although his hair was disheveled and his robes hung slightly looser.

"Don't you guys…ever…appear…less…than your best?"

Spock took a breath. "Not when we have control."

"So, in order to see you completely out of it I have to make you lose control… Any special way to do that?"

"None that I know of."

"I bet I can find a couple…"

Spock looked at him. "Why would you wish to if I do not want to lose it?"

Jim paused, blinking owlishly at him. "Because losing control is fun."

"You are human."

"True… Very human." He plopped down,."I'm gonna have to take a damn shower…don't you guys sweat?"

"I am from a desert planet, Jim…" He paused, blinking slightly.

Jim looked at him, eyebrows pinched. "I'm sorry about that…"

Spock shook his head slowly. "You are not to blame." He sat down stiffly and slowly, his deactivated lightsabers in his lap.

"You haven't had a chance to really think about it, have you?" Jim asked softly. From what he had heard, Spock had felt the death of his homeworld, traveled back to what had been Vulcan and been snapped up by Nero barely even a moment later. Then it was turned into a tug-of-war with Spock in the middle of two powers. Had he ever had a moment to himself? Ever had a moment to think and realize he was part of an endangered species?

Spock was blinking slowly, and Jim wanted to do something; he seemed so lost. "I have not. I must go. I need to meditate."

"That actually works for you?" Jim asked before he could help himself. Spock looked at him directly.

"It was a technique we used before we were aware of our place in the Force."

Jim nodded at that slowly. "Helps you remember who you are."

"Just as pain helps you remember that you are alive."

It wasn't until Spock had left the room that Jim really began thinking about what he had said, and the fact that he had said it so neutrally.

Meanwhile Spock had walked into the quarters that were for his private use, sitting down slowly in the middle of the room. There was no time for incense or candles, just centering. He took a slow breath, and let his mind drift, seeping down into the essence of his being, and then spreading it out, latching onto a hum of energy. This hum was something that he recognized and welcomed as the Force, something that connected him with everything, something that comforted him.

But once he was in it he found it was impossible to miss the glaringly obvious hole that had been torn into it, the death of all those Vulcans.

The slow death of his species.

Jim, meanwhile, was searching for Pike. The ship was large, interlocking and spread out. It made things more difficult, but he needed to find him. He was pretty sure that the Vulcan could take care of himself, but he figured that Pike had a right to know. It was his apprentice after all.

He found him eventually, walking up to him. "Master Pike…"

"Spock had time to think…" Pike stated calmly, looking at him evenly.

Jim blinked, and then remembered the link. "Great, I wandered all over this ship looking for someone that already knew." He sighed and then sat.

"Jim, go get a shower."

"I knew I was forgetting something!" He jumped to his feet, and Pike laughed.

"If I smelled like that I'd probably forget stuff too."

"Yeah well, it's not my fault your apprentice had a thing about making me run."

"Knocked your lightsaber out of your hand and ran you around a couple hundred times?"

"Yep."

"Did he take your own lightsaber and use that to swing at you?"

"Yep, your apprentice is cruel."

"I'll be sure to tell him that."

"Thank you."

With that Jim stood up and went to take a shower. He'd have time to try and make him laugh later.


	6. Pointy Eared Bastard

Jim dropped to the ground next to Bones, staring at his meditating master quietly. "How'd it go?"

"He chased me around with his lightsabers, which can apparently merge into one double lightsaber thingy, and then stole _my_ saber and went after me with both."

McCoy's eyes shot open at the mental image, and he burst out laughing. "MY GOD! I would have _paid_ to see that!"

"What? You're supposed to be supportive! I just got my ass handed to me!"

"Jim, you're the idiot that wanted to spar with him; there is no way I'm going to be supportive. Besides, I've been waiting for someone to knock your ego on its ass for ages now."

"Yeah well..." He wracked his brain for a quick retort, but failed. "You suck."

McCoy just smirked.

They continued to banter for a while, until the ship lurched hard. McCoy jerked upright, eyes wide before he gained control. "What the hell?"

So much for gaining control.

He hurried to the nearest intercom, slamming his fist on it, "What's goin' on?"  
_  
"Ve are sorry, sirs; zere is a ship; it is attacking; hurry to sickbay; zat iz ze safest spot on zis ship!"_ Chekov's voice answered automatically.

"Can't we do anything?"

"_Not unless you are able to make the Force push the ship avay from us, sir!"_

Not for the first time, McCoy wished that he had the strength for that particular feat. "It's too big, and it runs on its own power. If it were smaller…"

Surmising the Jedi's answer from his silence, Chekov replied, _"I understand; quickly, sickbay!"_

"Understood."

"It's times like this when I wish I really did serve on board a starship," Jim grumbled quietly as the two of them took off, their center-of-balance changing and shifting as often as the ship lurched. They passed several crewmembers running to various parts of the ship; the type of controlled panic that always comes in battle was on their faces as they channeled it into an energy that helped them focus.

As they were about to turn into sickbay, they saw something that drew them up short. Spock stood there at the end of the corridor leading to the shuttle bay with a limp Master Pike slung over one shoulder.

"What the hell?"

Spock heard them, jolting slightly as he turned around. His eyes shown a startling black, and a slow smile curled up the corner of his mouth, the very start of white teeth peeking through his lips.

For a moment the two Jedi were almost too shocked to react, woken from their stupor as Spock turned and ran. Igniting their lightsabers, the pair raced after him.

The ship was wracked by another jolt and they twisted, landing on the wall and continuing their pursuit, jumping off of it to the deck as the ship's internal gravity caught up to the maneuvers it was making.

The Vulcan was fast, and they couldn't afford to lose ground. They stumbled into the shuttle bay to see Spock at the controls of one of the escape pods. They entered it immediately, only for Spock to deftly avoid their sabers, jump out of the pod, and seal its door shut behind them. "Stay in the pod!" he shouted out, and triggered its ejection.

Watching it for a moment, he nodded to himself and then entered his actual pod, where Christopher Pike was restrained to the seat, a Force-numbing serum in his veins. He triggered the controls and his pod ejected itself. He saw the pod containing the Jedi and his apprentice enter warp as his comm beeped. He flipped it out and there, projected, was the face of his other master.

"Master, I have the Jedi."

"Taken right from under Yoda's nose as well…you have done well."

Spock inclined his head. "It was remarkably easy to gain their trust. Humans will react with pity and sympathy to anyone who shows signs of a great loss. I simply showed distress over the loss of my home planet, and communicated with them. My ship is currently keeping them occupied. I will recall it as soon as I reach Yavin. We will meet you shortly."

"I hope you know what kind of mistake you're making, Spock…" Pike's voice was rough, hoarse, and the two aliens turned to regard him, similar tattoos burned into their faces, and their black eyes staring at him.

"Speaking out of turn…" Nero said quietly.

Spock punched him, sending Pike's head cracking into the wall, and he slumped back into unconsciousness.

"A bit violent…"

"It was effective, and to be honest…I have been waiting for some time for the opportunity to do that."

"Hmmm…"

-

"THAT POINTY-EARED, GREEN-BLOODED BASTARD!" McCoy shouted out for the fifth time in the three minutes they had been in warp. Jim had tried to access the control panel, only to be electrocuted and rendered unconscious. It hadn't helped Leonard's blood pressure. So there they were, on a pod in warp, on a trip to SOMEWHERE, and he was cradling the body of his unconscious apprentice. It brought back memories of the last time they were in a similar position, and he really, really didn't want to think about that mission.

That had made him search to see what supplies they had on hand. When he'd seen the cold weather gear he had been confused, but then he saw the med packs and found them to be fully stocked.

"I take it back, hobgoblin, I dislike you. And if I ever see you again I am going to find a way to…I don't know. I'll do something though."

"Mmmphh…"

"Jim?"

"Oh, my head…what the hell happened?" Jim asked softly, pushing himself upright, looking up at his master in confusion.

"You found out that the control panel wasn't meant to be accessed. We've got to wait till we arrive at the place that Vulcan bastard decided to send us."

Jim groaned in annoyance. "I hate waiting."

"I can't believe we're stuck here."

"I can't believe we trusted him."

It was a discouraging thought, and the two of them lapsed into silence, and then into meditation. After all, there was nothing else to do.

The shaking of the pod alerted them to the fact that they had exited warp. They sighed, stretching and standing up to look out the viewscreen window. "You have got to be fricken' kiddin' me…"

"Is that Hoth?"

"HOTH, OF ALL THE GODDAMN' PLACES TO SEND US, HE SENDS US TO HOTH! WELL SCREW THAT POINTY-EARED BASTARD AND HIS STUPID…"

Jim tuned him out after that; while it was distinctly amusing to hear his master swear a blue streak, he couldn't help but be a little more apprehensive about how they were going to survive on Hoth. That's when he looked at the cold weather gear that Bones had uncovered.

"He gave us cold weather gear…" Jim said softly, and that stopped McCoy's cursing automatically.

Leonard looked at the stuff and then looked out the window at the planet giving a soft snort. "Screw it."

"Thought you said I wasn't allowed to…" Jim said teasingly.

McCoy glared at him. "Don't push your luck, kid, please."

"Sorry, Master… We're landing…"

"What?"

"We're landing." McCoy looked out the window in something bordering annoyance.

"Goddamn!"

Jim sighed, and then pulled the gear over, looking it over, just as the pod touched down. "This one's my size exactly…"

McCoy blinked, and then pulled his over, examining it and letting out a huff when he found his to be similar.

"I'm confused."

"He did say stay in the pod, right?"

"He did."

"Well…there's a couple of ways we can look at this…"

"Yeah?"

"Either the pointy-eared bastard has really turned, or he hasn't. If he hasn't, we should do as he says and stay put, but then that's kinda goin' against the fact that he gave us cold weather gear that would protect us against that," he pointed to the blizzard that was roaring outside, "which at the same time fits us exactly. Or, he's being a Vulcan, going on what he knows about humans and trying to utilize our stubborn refusal to do as we're told and, 'logically', trying to pull reverse psychology on us. Or he has turned, and he told us to stay in the pod because he doesn't want us to find whatever the hell is out there. But that still leaves the question of why send us here of all places, and why give us the gear at all?"

"So…he might still be on our side?"

"That depends on what's out there."

They donned their gear and burst out of the pod.

-

Two minutes later, after being chased by some of the most bizarre-looking creatures in the known galaxy, they finally collapsed, breathing heavily, their attention solely focused on getting air into their starved lungs. Their devotion to that particular task, coupled with the extreme cold, was likely the reason they did not notice the large, hairy, and very smelly creature sneaking up behind them. By the time they did, it was too late, and they were knocked unconscious with two swipes of its massive paws.

-

When they came to sometime later, it was with a groan and a sick dizzy feeling. Opening his eyes, Jim found them both to be suspended from a cave ceiling by ice surrounding their feet.

It was only a moment before they both noticed that they weren't the only ones in this unfortunate condition. Their fellow prisoner was an old man with silver hair that hung down in a loose pony tail, uncovering pointed ears and features that were somehow very familiar. There was just one thing that kept him from exactly appearing as an older version of the man that sent them to this frozen wasteland.

He had a small silver goatee.


	7. Questions

A moment later that form opened his eyes, revealing very familiar black orbs that locked on theirs automatically.

"Fascinating - Leonard H. McCoy and James T. Kirk. I had wondered who it was it wished me to meet…" he said softly.

"Who the hell are you?" McCoy snapped, not in the mood for anything.

"I had almost forgotten your sunny disposition, McCoy. I will not make that mistake again." The voice was quiet, but had a rumbling undertone of humor. "As for whom I am… I believe you have already met me."

"That's not possible…"

"You've come into contact with my signature."

"What?"

He raised his hand slowly, spreading his fingers slightly, and drawing it through the air in front of him. "Most recently…and I had Christopher Pike with me; also there's a hint of…" His voice trailed off, and his eyes closed, pain seeming to cloud them in the brief glimpse they had of them before they slit closed. "Nero."

"You…know Nero?"

"He is a particularly troubled Romulan…"

McCoy snorted. "Do all Vulcans have a gift for understatement?"

"Why do you presume that I am Vulcan and not Romulan?"

The response came from Jim this time. "You're hanging from the ceiling and have been captured by something, yet you're calmly discussing meetings and signatures like it's the weather, and you're vaguer than Yoda. What else could you be?"

The bearded lips twitched in somewhat of a smile and he nodded slightly. "Logical."

"I still don't know who you are, you pointy-eared bastard."

"Not as I am, but you knew me before. Jim, I am and always shall be your friend. McCoy…I do not believe I ever enjoyed being called that; now I am sure."

"What?"

"I am Spock." Suddenly what he had said about signatures made sense - his signature in the Force - and it was there. They felt it.

"YOU VULCAN BASTARD, JUST WAIT UNTIL I GET DOWN; I'M GONNA…"

"Fascinating….previously he was never quite this violent…"

Jim gave him a harsh look, "Yeah, well…"

"It would be logical to continue our discussion when we've properly oriented ourselves."

"How do we get down?"

Spock arched a single silver eyebrow. "I believe the proper, and more important question is, how do you survive the wampa?"

"The what?"

A loud roar echoed throughout the cave, shutting McCoy up and Jim swung his head around to face Spock. "Wait, did you say 'how do _you'_?"

"I may have…"

"What is it?"

"That." He inclined his head towards the back of the cave in explanation.

Jim and McCoy's eyes slowly trailed over to where he'd indicated. There at the back of the cave was a gigantic _thing_. It was taller than a man and had long shaggy white fur, and a pair of horns sprouted from its head. Its eyes were beady black and blood dripped onto its front from its long yellowed teeth. It was at that moment they noticed the bones scattered around the cave.

"Holy shit."

"Your observation skills clearly require improvement…"

The wampa roared again, and began slowly moving towards them. Spock didn't flinch, while the two humans frantically tried to break out of whatever was holding them to the ceiling. "What…is…this…crap?"

"Spit."

"WHAT?"

"The wampa prefers fresh meat; it is known to knock out its prey and bring them to its cave. It then hangs the unfortunate victim, using its spit to freeze their feet to the ceiling. The creature will then proceed to eat its prey alive." His head cocked to the side slightly. "I have never actually seen it done before…"

"AND YOU'RE NOT WORRIED IT'LL EAT YOU?" McCoy shouted in frustration, as he futilely tried to pull away the frozen saliva.

The Vulcan's lips gave another half-twitch smile. "It will not; I am far too thin for its taste, and I have its mind tapped. It does not know I am here. I was waiting for you, you see."

"Why?"

"You have heard of a master's ability to see the future?"

"An old wives' tale…"

"Well, as we are currently without possession of our lightsabers, and you have no idea how to get down, you had best hope my gift has not deserted me. Otherwise, I'm afraid your time is almost up."

"What?"

"There are two possible paths your lives could take. One ends very badly."

The wampa gave another growl, reaching out, and then a loud shout broke the silence. "OY, DINN'AH TELL YA TO CLEAR OUT, YA STUPID WAMPA!"

"Perfect timing…"

Jim and McCoy swung their heads to the side just in time to see a fur-covered someone burst into the cave. It was holding a spear that had electricity running along the tip of it, and it jabbed it into the wampa's side. The large beast let out a shriek like yowl, and swung back with a large clawed paw. Their rescuer ducked, and stabbed again, the electricity jolting loudly before the wampa was finally driven back and out of the cave.

The white fur-covered person walked over to them, and cocked its head. Jim noticed with some apprehension that it had wampa horns on the sides of its head.

"Well… Two humans, JEDI humans, and a Vulcan with a beard…that ain't somethin' ye see every day; what ye doin' in these parts?"

They were silent, staring at him closely, the furry head looking from one to the other until it seemed to jolt. "OH, terribly sorry, forgot all about this stuff…" That said, the hands reached up, pushing the covering off. A human male stood smiling up at them; he had thinning red hair, blue eyes, and an air about him that sang with mischievousness and warmth.

Jim liked him on sight.

"Wampa fur is very warm; stinks to high heaven though, but it gets the job done…"

"Lovely; now get us down," barked Bones.

"Oh! Righ', sorry 'bout that… Um… I could use this here, but that'd electrocute ye, so that's not a good idea, um…"

Spock had a tiny hint of a smile on his mouth. "If you look behind you, Mr. Scott, you will notice four hilts…"

"OH!" He blinked. "Wait, did you just say my name?"

"SO THAT'S WHERE THE DAMN THINGS WERE!" Before Scotty had a chance to turn around and grab them, McCoy and Jim had Force-yanked the hilts from the ice and sliced themselves down, flipping in midair, only to stumble on their asses when the blood began resuming its proper circulation.

In seconds though, they'd brought the lightsabers to bear and stood up, pointing them at Spock's chest. "Fascinating."

"DON'T YOU 'FASCINATE' ME, PAL; I TRUST YOU ABOUT AS FAR AS I CAN THROW YOU."

"Technically speaking, given a proper open field - and if you are as close to the Force as I remember - you would be able to throw me quite far."

McCoy glared. "Shut up."

"As you wish, but that will get you nowhere." With that the man fell silent.

"What do you mean?"

He was still silent.

"Damn it, man, talk! What do you mean?"

"You wish to know why I am here, and my involvement; I also believe you wish to know which side I am truly on, and yet you wish that I would stop talking. Highly illogical, and a very poor way to question someone."

McCoy hissed through his teeth. "Yeah well, I'm a rather illogical person; now answer this, why and how are you here?"

Jim noticed that Scotty was about as enthralled as he was, watching the both of them like a tennis match. McCoy hadn't noticed that his apprentice's green blade was pointing more at the ground than Spock.

"Is he always like that?" Scotty whispered to Jim.

"Yep…but I had no idea that someone could talk like that guy… I think he's just doing it to egg him on…"

"He's doin' a good job of it…"

"It's great, isn't it?"

"Aye...that it is…almost as good of a show as those Firefly class ships…"

"You're an engineer, aren't you?"

"Aye, how'd ye know?"

"The Firefly class is still in preconstruction."

"Aye, so do you know about…"

Aside from this conversation however, McCoy and Spock were still in an argument. McCoy was gesturing and shouting, the lightsaber ignored for the moment, while Spock was quiet and formal, and always most impertinently polite. Finally McCoy stopped, panting for breath. "I don't get you, Vulcan… Are you with us or against us?"

Spock's eyes darkened slightly. "Both and neither."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It is too difficult to explain in words. But I have another way; it requires a great deal of trust."

"Then there's no way."

"I am afraid you have no choice - you must trust me, as the fate of this universe depends on it."

"Does it now?"

"I need to stop Nero; you must trust me, McCoy, please. You also must explain to me later why you find this so difficult. I never had this much trouble before, or disturbed your emotional state quite so easily."

Leonard stared into those black eyes closely and gave a sigh. "Green-blooded hobgoblin," he muttered, then, "All right." He freed him, and watched in slight disgust as Spock flipped over backwards and landed neatly on his feet, that loose pony tail coming to rest on his back. "What method are you talking about?"

Jim and Scotty stopped their conversation, their eyes turning to the old man. "It is called a mind meld. I am sorry, Mr. Scott, but what I am about to show them cannot be seen by you."

"Ah, it's a Jedi thing, then? Alrigh', no problem; I'll see what I can scavenge, start a fire…"

That said, Scotty began picking through the cave, mumbling to himself all the while.

"I cannot use it on both of you at once," Spock cautioned.

"Shame."

"Shall we start with you, McCoy?"

"You gonna be inside my head?"

"That is the plan, yes…"

"Screw it. Let's get the damn thing over with."


	8. Answers

Christopher Pike struggled back to consciousness. Opening his eyes, he found himself in an open room. It was damp; the sound of dripping water echoed in his ears, a fog rising up around him.

As his awareness continued to slowly return, he found himself strapped to a table, and what had been a very strong connection to the Force was now barely a trickle. He couldn't feel it. The drug was continuing its numbing run through his veins; it was one of the most horrible feelings he had ever had in his life. Then he noticed something else, something more discouraging- the teaching bond that had connected him to his apprentice was gone.

He had expected it, but that didn't make it any less disheartening.

He stretched slightly, hearing splashing from his right. As he turned to look, he found his vision blocked by the face of a Romulan who had his head shaved, his face and likely his entire body covered in tattoos. Pike recognized that face, he recognized those eyes.

"Hello, Christopher; I'm Nero."

Pike almost laughed, instead simply raising an eyebrow, an act he'd picked up from his apprentice. At the sound of more splashing, Christopher turned his head and stared up into the black eyes of Spock…_speak of the devil and he shall come_…

"I'm sure you recognize Spock…your ever-faithful apprentice…" Nero said softly.

"Master." Spock's voice was on the line between disrespectful and neutral, and Pike experienced one of his usual flashes of amazement at the control. But now wasn't the time or place for reflecting.

"Spock." He didn't say anything else. He didn't have to. His eyes gave his thoughts away better than anything he could say. But he had quite a bit to say to Nero.

"You destroyed Vulcan, why?"

"I was preventing genocide…"

"You _committed_ genocide! It was a peaceful plane-"

"LIAR! If they were so peaceful, then Romulus would not be destroyed-"

"Romulus…you are drastically misinformed; Romulus is there, it's OUT there, and you're-"

"It will not be." Nero hissed out, "It will be destroyed when it was the Vulcans who swore to save it."

"Then why don't you…"

"Romulus will always have enemies even if I save it now; this is simply my way to make sure they'll never be threatened again. Romulus will be placed in the position of power it once had, a great and powerful empire!" He was spitting the words out now, vicious, violent. "They destroyed my planet, they destroyed my wife!"

"Wife…but…"

"Oh, I had forgotten, you're a part of the original order; apprentices…no emotional attachments…" He sneered softly, and slowly backed away.

Another Romulan with a shaved head walked forward into his field of view. "This is Ayel. His job is to make you talk."

For the next few hours, Master Pike's body knew nothing but pain. Ayel was a master of his art, using his instruments to attack the nerve centers, the agony coming in waves. Drawing upon his training, he withdrew into the Force, using it as a shield to keep him from losing himself and answering Ayel's shouted interrogations. Then, as suddenly as it had began, the torture ended. He coughed, his throat raw from his screams. "Is that it?"

Nero reappeared in his vision. "It's a shame it has to be this way, Christopher; I admired you, you know… Still able to defy the odds and become one of the most powerful Jedi, despite your human disadvantage. But I'm afraid I need the defense systems of Coruscant gone more than I need your comfort. Spock."

The half-Vulcan looked up at him quietly. "Meld with him, find out the codes… Make it painful…"

Spock didn't reply, simply raising an eyebrow before positioning his fingers into the meld points on Pike's face. The shields that had protected him from the physical attack melted away under his estranged apprentice's onslaught, the Vulcan's brute force approach destroying them in seconds. And Christopher Pike's world melted away in fire and pain...

….

McCoy jerked away from the hand on his face several minutes after the meld had begun. Jim watched in something bordering amazement as his master ineffectively wiped at his face and eyes, trying to hide the tears, his face in an angry grimace.

"My apologies…emotional transference is a consequence of a meld."

McCoy looked at him, glaring. "You don't say…" he spat out.

"What…"

"Show him…just…get it over with. I trust you; as soon as you're finished…we'll start trying to find a way off this rock. We've got no other choice…"

That said McCoy moved over to sit with Scotty near the fire, Jim turning his eyes on the old man sitting quietly, black eyes glittering in the light.

"Well..." He spread his arms slightly, and scooted a little closer. "Like my master said, let's get this over with!"

Spock gave a small nod and extended his hand. Jim tried to calm his nerves at the feeling of fever-warm fingers pressing on his face, and then something else spread from that point, slowly, past his flesh, into his mind. He barely registered the words _'My mind to your mind'_ echoing outside his head.  
**  
**_**"Where I am from, Jim, a terrible war caused the destruction of almost all of the original order."**__ In his mind's eye, Jim watched the images flying by; of a temple and a group of Jedi sitting attentively, listening to a man at the front of a classroom as he taught. There appeared to be no master, and no apprentices. __**"A Master by the name of Luke is at the head of the Order, and those that have emerged from his tutelage are a mixed bag of success, and failure."**___

Various faces flashed through his mind, and then one of them was focused on, a Romulan. _**"Nero was one of the most successful of the Order. But he was also one of the most unstable. He was found when he was thirteen, Jim, and he was already betrothed. I regret not stopping him from entering, but I have never accepted a place in the Order. I have no power over their affairs."**___

_**"But something else happened, something that led to him being here. A star went supernova."**__ He watched as the star exploded, the images shifting into a ship, various Vulcans piecing it together, outfitting it for something. __**"The Vulcan High Council had agreed to design a ship that would contain Red Matter, with the sole purpose of stopping the nova before it destroyed Romulus, and almost everything else. While I was the one sent to fulfill this mission, Nero made me swear to stop it, before setting out as well."**___

Images of Nero and Spock having a quick discussion, before he was off, played through Jim's mind as Nero entered a small shuttle. He had no doubt that that shuttle was heading to the bohemian ship that he used even now. 

"_**But I was too late."**_

_The emotion that flooded Jim at that moment was so powerful and so heavy that Jim felt it bleed into his own being as he watched the titanic wave of the supernova destroy Romulus. He watched Spock, seconds too late, eject the Red Matter, and witnessed the supernova collapsing into a black hole._

_**"Romulus was destroyed. And Nero came for me."**___

The ship came out of nowhere, pursuing Spock's ship. _**"We went into the black hole, where Nero exited first. But what was many years for Nero, was only seconds for me."**__ Images of Spock exiting the black hole, and crumbling to his knees directly after played through his mind. __**"Imagine, Jim, entering a universe where all your mental ties are severed without warning, where all that you knew, everything that you were is gone. I did not need to see my planet destroyed. Its mere absence in the Force was enough."**___

The wave of absolute misery and agony swept over him like a flood, and Jim retreated on impulse, pulling himself right out of the meld.  
  
Jim took a gasping breath, wiping at his face with his sleeves, his eyes wide and face haunted. He stared into that impassive face, finding nothing, except for within the eyes. The old Vulcan's eyes showed anger and pain in equal measure to his own, possibly more. He had never _felt_ that way before.

"I must stop Nero, Jim." The voice was calm, and Jim took a breath.

"I know, it's our goal as well, but what about your counterpart? Is it possible that he's turned?"

Spock was silent for a moment. "Everything must be taken into consideration. If my counterpart has…then he must be stopped. He will be very dangerous."

"Don't need to tell me twice," Jim said with a wry smile and stood up. "If Spock hasn't turned…"

"Yes?"

"Never mind, it's not important. Now, how do we get off of this ice ball?"

"You don'!" Scotty called in reply, giving him a rather apologetic smile.

"Actually…if you would come with me," Spock stated quietly, and the three of them blinked, before standing up and following the old Vulcan as he left the cave. And it was then that they realized he was wearing nothing warmer than his Jedi Robes.

"Holy shit, aren't you cold?" McCoy asked, fingers automatically reaching for his own coat, his mind running through the facts that Spock had been out in the cold for hours, hanging from the ceiling, and was a Vulcan with a much higher relative body temperature. They weren't meant for cold weather.

"Not at all, McCoy, cold is merely a matter of perception."

It was all Jim could do to avoid laughing at the look on his master's face.

Then he saw the ship, and he knew the moment when Scotty did as well. The strange engineer was instantly asking questions, eyes wide and mouth pulled into a huge 'oh' shape whenever Spock answered. Then he paused. "Wait just a minute now…you're…you're from the future, ain't ye?"

"A fascinating hypothesis; how did you arrive at it?"

"That ship…and you were all talkin' 'bout another Spock…and…you knew my name!"

"That is correct, I am from the future."

"That's…incredible… Are there any sandwiches there?"

"There are."

"Fantastic!" Scotty shouted out. "Oh, wait! I have to get Keenser; that little blighter has to come too!"

"Keenser?" Jim asked. Next second a small green alien popped out of nowhere right next to him, making Jim shout and stumble backwards.

"There you are, you little beast… We're gettin' out!"

Keenser took one look at the group of humans and the Vulcan, and then at the ship, and sighed. He just _knew_ he should have never bothered to help that crazy human with his formulas.


	9. Out of the Ice Ball

"I just realized something…how are we going to find them?" Jim asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had befallen them once they were all situated in the Jellyfish.

Scotty was staring at everything with wide-eyed wonder, too shocked to really say anything, but at that comment he turned to look at Spock as well. The half-Vulcan inclined his head slightly, focusing on piloting the craft more than them. But he still managed to give a half-sardonic smile that was barely visible.

"Patience."

McCoy grumbled quietly, and sighed, leaning back on the wall next to the sensor equipment. A blinking light soon caught his attention. He looked at it and narrowed his eyes. "Spock…what's this for?"

"That detects signals from other ships. This craft was not originally designed with the sole purpose of transporting Red Matter, and therefore has multiple other functions."

The reminder of that vibrant red sphere, held by a containment field in the center of the ship, made them shift slightly. The vessel was designed to hold one person, so a group of three full-grown humans and one small alien as well as a Vulcan was a bit of a squeeze, but they managed. They weren't given any other choice.

"Well…it's blinking…what does that mean?"

"If you would transfer the signal to my station? I would do so, but many of the original functions were changed, making it quite difficult to do while simultaneously piloting."

"Sure, just…give me a minute…" He examined the controls quietly, and then finally managed to relay it to Spock's panel.

"Ah, thank you, McCoy."

"No problem; now…you want to tell me what that's found?"

"The only other thing that it has the ability to find, Nero and the _Narada_."

His answer made them all blink, and McCoy glared at him. "You knew all along that it would be able to find him, didn't you?"

"Of course… I was aware of my ship's capabilities."

"Yeah, well…"

"However, it is only capable of picking up an active transmission."

Jim spoke slowly, "So you mean…"

"Someone on that ship wishes for it to be found; I am not sure, but I believe I can state with some certainty that individual would not be Nero."  
…

Ayel walked towards the black-clad Vulcan sitting on the ledge, a sneer twisting his face. Spock didn't bother to open his eyes when the older Romulan sat down beside him, the Romulan's brown eyes focused away. The Romulan spoke. "So how did it feel, destroying your master?"

Spock was silent, his mouth set into a line, his non-expression focused. "I am Vulcan. We do not feel."

"Sure you don't. You had to feel something; after all, you did have a mental link to him."

"As his padawan, I did. Once I made my choice, I broke the link; it was a simple process."

"So you just broke the mental link and left him to be tortured, completely uncaring. Your need for revenge is staggering for a Vulcan who supposedly doesn't _feel_…" Ayel sneered.

Spock opened his eyes, revealing two completely black empty orbs, devoid of both feeling and emotion. "I did not need to feel to know that I did not need him. I did not need to feel to know that I needed revenge."

Ayel was quiet, staring into the black depths and finally dismissed him with a cold sneer. He departed as quietly as he had come, not wanting to admit how much those eyes made him want to shudder.

"That was a tad melodramatic, don't you think?"

Something in Spock's eyes changed. "Nyota."

The brown-skinned woman walked up, leaning on the ledge next to him, and looked over the deep cargo hold.

"Don't get me wrong, it was good, the whole 'I don't feel' thing; very clever. But you know that they still don't trust you."

"I am aware; I would not need to pay it any mind, except for the fact that it becomes constricting."

"And there's no way to take over when everyone's breathing down your neck."

"Do you know why they destroyed Vulcan, Nyota?"

"No, 'fraid I don't…" she said softly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

"They destroyed Vulcan because, in the future, Vulcan fails to save Romulus. So they destroy my people, they destroy my family, all for a mistake that has not been made yet, and could have been prevented should they have attempted to save it themselves." His voice was hard, bitter, and yet still managed to be unemotional. Nyota stared at him silently.

"I grieve with thee…" she finally whispered, and Spock didn't reply. "Come on, you're too young yet… I know how much it must hurt, but please, Spock. Don't throw away everything for the sake of something in the past. Help me off this thing!"

Spock looked at her quietly, "I can no more do that than I can save myself."

"Aren't you supposed to be some all-powerful Vulcan?"

"I am only half-Vulcan, and I have never been all powerful," Spock stated quietly. Nyota blinked, and gave a small nod.

"I gotta go…I've got more to translate…" She left, and Spock watched her go quietly.

"I am sorry, Nyota…"

She stopped and turned around slowly to regard him with a small half-smile. "I know."

With that she left, back to whatever use Nero was putting her to. Spock found it strange that he would choose a human as a translator when he could have chosen several forms of protocol droid at his disposal. Instead, Nero had stolen a human woman. Spock was not sure why, but he felt that it had something to do with whatever past Nero knew, the past that should have been, and would never be, their future.

It was useless to dwell on what could have been, and with that in mind Spock stood up and left the cargo hold that was now unused. Most of the massive ship's primary functions had been torn apart and revamped. Spock didn't know how, and he didn't know what had done it; all he knew was whatever had changed that ship had given it enough firepower to wipe out his home planet. To wipe out Coruscant. That was their eventual destination. As he left, he tossed a single chip into the cargo hold.

That chip fell down into the pit, turning end over end before landing on the floor and snapping open, a single blue bulb in the center blinking on and off. In a normal cargo hold, the flashing would be made obvious immediately, but in that dark empty space, the light was choked in the darkness, and would never be seen.  
….

"We will exit warp a short distance from the _Narada_; as said, this was not a ship originally designed to hold Red Matter. There is a cloaking device installed to help us remain undetected. As with most equipment aboard this ship, I do not have direct access. Mr. Scott, if you will…"

"Aye, sir!"

"What exactly were you, Scotty? Before you got on Delta Vega?" asked Jim, voicing something that had been confusing him for a while now.

"Ah…now…that…tha's a bit of a story…"

"Yeah?" Jim prodded.

"I, uh, I worked for the Hutts…"

"The Hutts?"

"Aye, you know, those big giant worm things with faces, that are really quite ugly and have bad tempers? Gangsters?"

"Yeah, I know, just tryin' to picture you workin' for 'em."

"It's a stretch…" Scotty said with a slight grin. "It wasn'a my choice, mind… I got caught up in somethin' I couldn'a get out of so to speak. And then I got in trouble, and the mighty Lord Jabba had me deported. No big mystery really, just a pain in the aft…"

"And…Keenser?"

"That little blighter was the reason my equations were wrong."

Keenser made an affronted huff, crossing his arms and looking highly disgruntled from his perch on top of one of the consoles.

"Don'na look at me like that! It's true! If you hadn'a written it wrong, we wouldn'a been here in the first place!"

"What equation did ya get wrong?"

"Well…it wasn' 'wrong' exactly; it was…right; I mean it worked, but I don't know where we sent it exactly."

"Transwarp beaming."

"Aye! How d'ya…oh, future…right…"

"Eventually, you did perfect that formula."

"I did?"

"Yes…"

"Do you have a copy of it?"

"I do not; however, I can remember it."

"Really? What is it?'

"Should it become necessary I will tell you."

"Aye…should'a known…" A few more tweaks of the panel and Scotty smiled. "Righ', that ought ta do it!"

"Then activate on my mark, Mr. Scott."

"Aye sir!"

"Three…two…one…mark!"

They dropped out of warp, just as Scotty initiated the cloak, the interior lights dimming in order to keep the containment field and life support working with the cloak.

"Rather efficient…"

"It does serve its purpose sufficiently."

Those were the only words spoken, because they then looked out the view screen, and directly ahead of them lay the _Narada_.

Even at this distance they could see that it was huge. Its shape was more like a giant deformed octopus than the birdlike form of any other Romulan ship they had seen. But Jim remembered the battle over Vulcan clearly, how those octopus arms could each turn into an individual ship, and launch out in a swarm of plasma. He still saw them in his nightmares. Scotty let out a low whistle.

"It's a good thing we've got that cloak…otherwise we might be in just a wee bit of trouble…"

McCoy's laugh barked out, "You understate things worse than the hobgoblin over there!

Spock made an odd sound in the back of his throat. "I had not known such a thing was possible…"  
...


	10. Into the Plasma

Spock stood silently on the bridge, watching the stars fly in front of him, waiting for something. Waiting for any hint of…

He blinked, and without a second's hesitation approached an officer manning one of the numerous science stations. The crew was working fitfully to prepare the massive warship for battle.

The Romulan had straightened and looked to declare something, until he noticed Spock. The two locked eyes for only a moment, and then the officer calmly looked back to his station, adjusting several knobs and buttons as he did so. The Vulcan made a round to each and every crewmember on the bridge, leaning over their stations, making brief eye contact with each one as he went. Then, as quietly as he had entered, he made his exit.

Spock had business to attend to, and it was necessary for Nero to be distracted before he could attend to it. The young Vulcan Jedi didn't subscribe to a belief in hope, and relying on such a thing to keep Nero away from the bridge was illogical.

He made his way to the lower levels, more specifically, to where his former Master was located. Nero often enjoyed flaunting his superiority, that he had 'won', and that he would shortly destroy the Jedi. Spock found his confidence illogical.

Nero's voice echoed in the emptiness alongside the dripping of water. It was made worse when Pike answered back, his voice still as strong as ever. Defiant to the end.

Nero heard the sound of Spock's splashing entrance immediately, and turned around to face his apprentice. "Spock, so nice of you to join us. Was there something you needed?"

Spock placed his hands behind his back easily, an eyebrow rising. "A matter requiring your attention has arisen in regards to one of the attack ships. I would alert Ayel about it, but he has been strange as of late."

"He's jealous," Nero sneered, and placing a hand on his shoulder, turned him around and led him out. Pike couldn't see it, but his fingers dug in painfully.

Spock didn't even wince.

In the precious moments of silence left to him, Pike took time just to breathe. He was beginning to look on the memories of such simple things with fondness.

"How's this going to go down?" Jim asked finally, still fixated on the ship that floated in space ahead of them.

Spock was looking the panel over, and then blinked. "Quite curious…"

"What?"

"They have lowered the shields."

"They've what?"

"The cargo bay is also opening, and appears to be the origin of the guiding signal."

They were silent, staring at the ship in amazement. "Who could be able to pull that many people to his will?"

"Have you ever argued with a Vulcan?" McCoy asked suddenly, making the other humans look at him; Keenser turned his head to look as well. They all gave slightly negating shakes of their head. Jim didn't count the argument about the lightsabers; it wasn't a decent one anyway. "Yeah, well take it from me, you can beat against them all you want to, but unless they want to, they won't cave. If Spock wanted, he has the force of will to turn an entire ship."

Jim nodded, "Well, let's take it then."

That said Spock gently angled the ship into the cargo hold, his expression focused. As soon as they landed, the cargo bay doors shut. There was a moment of general panic, and then they noticed a figure entering the cargo bay as soon as the doors had sealed and the bay pressurized. She was immediately recognizable to Jim, his mouth gaping open automatically at the sight of her. Within the space of four seconds, he had thrown himself at the hatch and left the ship.

"YOU!"

Nyota Uhura took one look at the Jedi padawan and rolled her eyes. "Kirk. I should have known."

"You were expecting someone else?"

"I didn't know who to expect, only that Spock told me…"

"Spock?" McCoy's voice barked out automatically as he took a step out of the hatch to see what the commotion was about.

"Yes, unless there's another-" At that moment Spock Prime stepped out of the ship, and her eyes went wide as she finished her question. "...one? Spock?"

"I am, and it is good to see you, Nyota." The older Vulcan's voice was warm. There was no real other way to describe it, and Uhura's eyes widened slightly.

"So that's your name!" Jim said loudly.

"Hush!" she hissed in response, placing her finger to her lips. "We are all in enemy territory in case you haven't noticed, Kirk! You're just lucky Spock knows what he's doing and was able to cut all the security feeds here. Now, you want Jedi Master Pike, don't you?"

"He's alive?"

"He's still alive, and that's about all I can say about him. I've been trying to sneak food and water to him, but…that's all I've been able to do." Her voice was subdued. "I'm as much a prisoner as he is, but I'm no use to them dead. Pike on the other hand… You need to hurry. I'll find a way to divert attention, but you have to save him. Spock said to cloak your Force signatures as best you can. This room is non-conductive to the Force, but the rest of the ship is like a spiderweb, with Nero as the spider."

Jim's shock had worn off at this point and was being replaced with youthful excitement. "What should we do for Spock; do we save him?"

"Spock will meet you. While you can hide your signatures from Romulans…Vulcans are a bit harder to fool."

"Should we try and find him?" asked McCoy.

"I'd concentrate on getting by the Romulans and rescuing Pike."

"What about the Jellyfish?"

Spock Prime spoke up at this point. "I believe…it might be best that it remains here…" he stated quietly.

"How are we going to get out then?" asked Scotty.

"The only answer I can give you is to trust me."

McCoy snorted, but they all nodded. "Alright, now who's doing what?"  
_

"You are powerful, Spock…"

The Vulcan didn't reply, looking ahead, working alongside the Romulan quietly, lips pressed together and hands immersed deep into the internal workings of the ship.

"You will become even more powerful. You will survive a purge, and the world of the Jedi will look to you for guidance." His voice was dark, hissing. "Tell me, how is it possible that you could fail so spectacularly as to destroy an entire world?"

Spock didn't react, aside from a barely visible widening of the eyes. The next second he had jumped back, lightsabers in both hands as he assumed a defensive stance.

Nero laughed, "Relax…" He sneered, putting his hands up and, tossing his weapon to the side, baring his teeth in an intimidating smile.

Spock continued to stare at him, never lowering his guard, eyes focused and pitch black. "That would be illogical. Am I right in hypothesizing that you hold me responsible me for the destruction of Romulus in your dimension?"

The response was immediate. "IT WAS YOUR FAULT!" the Romulan bellowed, and Spock brought the lightsabers into a form more conducive to immediate retaliation. Nero laughed. "But that was then; this is now. I think I got the better end of the deal. I never truly realized what comes with having a Vulcan on my side, as an apprentice, someone to train. But I believe in trust. You have to know what I intend to do, what I am planning. I will give you the knowledge to save a world, to let you conquer and command the galaxy at my side. But I suspected that you were wary of me; now I am sure."

Spock continued staring at him, and finally Nero smiled. "What more do you want? I have told you my aims; why do you still not trust me?"

"Your planet is destroyed and your wife is gone. Why would anything change when it is not me, but instead my counterpart, who has destroyed it? Why would you not kill me?"

"Because I need you, don't you see? With you, I can command the galaxy, but as myself… No, I'm Romulan, I always have been, and I can act as nothing else, but you are _Vulcan_. Your planet is destroyed, and through that loss you could infiltrate any planet in this galaxy and they would welcome you with open arms, deeply apologetic and desperate to see that you are content. All highly concerned with sharing their deepest sympathies. Sincere or otherwise."

Spock narrowed his eyes. "You wish for me to take over from the inside. Destroying them all, like a parasite, taking advantage of their hospitality only to obliterate them."

"Yes. I know all the ones to watch out for, all those who would destroy the ones you will grow to see as friends. You will be able to save them, you know, should they agree to leave their ways. Once we destroy the Jedi Order they will have no choice. Do you agree? Will you help me?"

Every sense that Spock possessed was attuned to the Romulan, eyes narrowed and shining black. The Romulan never moved, and Spock finally deactivated his lightsabers, his stance changing to a neutral one. He didn't say a word, and simply moved back to the ship, inserting his hands back into its internal wiring. Nero clapped him on the back once, causing Spock to stiffen slightly.

"You are still wary…there's hope for your survival yet."

Nero walked away quietly, pike flying to his hand at a whim, leaving Spock alone. As soon as the Dark Jedi had left, he removed his hands from the ship's entrails and backed away.

"Does it seem like a worthy sacrifice?"

The quiet voice made Spock turn, eyes wide as he stared into the midnight eyes of…himself.

"You…you are the cause of all of this."

The elder Spock was silent, looking at his counterpart and staring at him quietly. "I am."

The young Spock stood shoulders back, eyes ablaze, and just stared at him. "Why?"

"I was not fast enough. Our fastest ship was not fast enough, and before I could eject the Red Matter, Romulus was gone. I will not lie to you; it was my fault, my responsibility and my promise."

"Because of you all our lives have been changed irreparably."

"Yes."

They stared at each other in silence, neither blinking, a silent battle of wills and realities, apologies and understandings.

"Where are the others?" Spock finally asked.

The sudden shout of "SPOOOOOOCCKKK!" gave them their answer.

Both of them raised their heads, eyes locked onto a point in the distance. "He is coming…"

"He is also very angry…"

"I will take care of the humans."

"I will take care of Nero. Go; they will need immediate assistance."

That said, the younger Spock ran out, towards the fading Force signals of McCoy and Jim, three other presences making him lose himself into the flow of the Force, speeding himself up in order to reach them.

He refused to be the second Spock to be too late.  
...


	11. What Doesn't Kill You

Jim blocked another strike to his head, arms buckling with the blow, desperately wishing that he had more backup. The angry Romulan had knocked McCoy unconscious quickly, leaving the young padawan alone in his fight. Wielding a strange lightsaber design, more of a spear than a saber, he'd come out of nowhere. But he recognized him. He recognized his Force signature. Jim was fighting for his life against Nero, and he was losing.

Off to the side, Nyota, Scotty and Keenser were being Force-held against the wall by another Romulan who stood at attention nearby, watching the duel with a sneer on his face. Scotty and Nyota both had horrified expressions on their faces, but neither of them could do anything.

"You humans are rather pathetic, you know," Nero commented quietly, easily parrying Jim's clumsy attack. The young Jedi wasn't a bad fighter; he could hold his own against multiple opponents, but he had never fought against someone who was as strong as Nero, or ever faced anyone with a weapon that this opponent was using. Jim wasn't surprised that he was losing. But he never stopped. He couldn't afford to stop.

"So weak..." he continued as Jim desperately deflected another blow. "One swing from me at full force…" He brought his pike down onto Jim's lightsaber, sending it tumbling away from his hands, down into the pit behind him. "...And I have you at my mercy."

Quickly, Jim found himself hit in the gut by the butt of the pike, falling backwards with an 'oomph', completely winded. Within seconds, Nero's hands were around his throat, squeezing tightly. "All it takes is for me to cut off your air supply." The fingers tightened, Jim desperately gasping out, reaching out into the Force to try and find the strength to get Nero to release him, only to have his attempts blocked by the unmoving barrier that was Ayel.

His vision was fading to black, and he frantically tried to cling to consciousness. Suddenly, Nero paused, and his eyes narrowed. "That signature…" he whispered softly, and then his eyes widened. He screamed the name of the half-Vulcan, his hands loosening on impulse, and then he was gone, running, the lightsaber pike flying into his outstretched hand.

Jim had only a moment to gasp for breath before he found his throat constricted again. Ayel calmly lifted him into the air with one arm, looking at him with his typical sneer. Jim wished they would find a better method of killing him than just crushing his windpipe. Then he felt something at his waist, and he found that there was some hope.

Ayel laughed softly, turning his head this way and that. "You really are so weak; look at you." Jim tried to gasp something out, his fingers reaching out for that one chance. "You can't even talk…" Jim grasped it, and Ayel loosened his grip around his neck just enough that he could choke out what he wanted to say. "What?"

"I've got your saber…"

Ayel's eyes went wide as the young Jedi activated the weapon, the golden beam slicing straight through Ayel's torso. The Romulan's eyes rolled back into his head, and he let go.

It was then that Jim realized that this probably wasn't one of his better ideas. Ayel fell forward, pulling Jim along with him, the both of them beginning the long descent down into the bowels of the ship. Jim landed on the platform first, knocking the wind out of him, but not breaking his fall. The gold saber fell onto the platform, just as Jim slipped off.

He tried to use the Force to slow his plummet, but he was too weak. He felt his world going black for the second and possibly last time.

The prime version of Spock stood in the same place that he had found his counterpart. His eyes were closed, his mind centering itself out of habit in the quiet meditation of the damned. The sudden igniting hum of a lightsaber made his eyes slit open, looking out into the dark in front of him. The red short and wide tip of Nero's lightsaber pike was pointed at the floor and glowed brightly in the darkness. The Romulan who wielded it stared at Spock with eyes filled with wild fury.

The elderly Vulcan didn't make a move. He stood there calmly, waiting for his longtime adversary to react.

"Spock," Nero finally hissed out.

The half-Vulcan nodded in acknowledgement, staring at him.

"I've waited seventeen years for this moment, old man, seventeen years. Don't plan on me killing you though; I plan on enjoying watching you suffer."

At that, the fallen Jedi charged, swinging his pike with a yell. Spock calmly raised one arm, a lightsaber flying into his hand. The red beam ignited, easily blocking the blow. "You shall have to try harder than that, Nero."

Nero snarled, and made another slash, and Spock parried it as easily as he had the last. The Romulan stepped back and spun, slicing widely, only to have the lightsaber come up and block the blow again. Nero gave a shout and lunged, slashed, twisted, stabbed only to have each attack countered and avoided. Spock backed away slowly, shaking his head sadly. "You are angry and vengeful, my old friend. In your current state, you will not be able to defeat me."

Nero growled, "I am not here to be patronized by you! Now FIGHT ME!"

Spock raised an eyebrow, and his other lightsaber joined the first, both of them humming as steadily as their wielder. "As you wish."

Jim's eyes snapped open at the feeling of a hand firmly grabbing onto his wrist. In shock, he looked up and came face-to-face with Spock. The half-Vulcan was standing on the bottom of the platform, likely using some Vulcan Force trick to keep him there. His eyes were wide, and Jim couldn't help but smile at him. "Thanks, Spock."

The half-Vulcan didn't reply, instead pulling his mouth into a thin line. "I commend you for managing to kill Ayel, but I believe your master would not be pleased should you have died in the process. In addition, it is not necessary to thank someone for doing what needed to be done."

Jim grinned at him, "If you say so."

"Well…paint me shirt red and call me a Lieutenant Commander…I dinnae know ye could stand on the ceilin'…"

Spock blinked, and raised an eyebrow at Jim.

The padawan grinned, "That's Scotty. We met him on Hoth."

Spock didn't reply, simply hefted him up until Scotty could grab him and haul him the rest of the way. Spock then crouched, grasped the platform edge, and pulled himself into a handstand position before letting his legs fall onto the top side of the platform and standing up.

"What is it with you Vulcans and insane feats of strength?"

"Vulcans are naturally three times stronger than a human. There is nothing 'insane' about it; it is merely a facet of my natural biology."

"Ah."

Spock walked over, hefting McCoy onto his shoulder, and turning to look at Jim again. "I will take your master to my ship. Follow Nyota; she will take you to Master Pike and then take you to where my ship is located. You should not be bothered by many guards; Ayel was the head torturer. Here they do not have jailers."

With that he dismissed them with a nod and turned and ran.

"I hope my master won't overreact…"

Nyota gave a soft scoff before pointing down at the lower platform. "We need to get down there. I'd recommend jumping; think you're up to getting us down there safely now that someone's not crushing your trachea?"

Jim grinned at her. "Jump."

Nyota nodded and did so, Jim reaching out with the Force and giving her a boost so she landed safely. He looked to Scotty and nodded his head at the gap. Scotty looked down, looked to Nyota, looked at Keenser, and then looked back to Jim. "Ye've gotta be out of yer bloomin' mind."

Keenser pushed him, the engineer letting out a squawk before Jim managed to catch and half-toss/half-push him to Nyota, who braced herself and caught him. They fell onto the platform. Scotty blinked wearily, then looked down and realized just who he was laying on. "Ach! Sorry, lass!" he said hurriedly, standing up and helping her to her feet. Keenser jumped next, and Jim proceeded to show off by making a spectacular flip onto it.

"Alright, this way," Nyota stated once she was sure their attention was on her, and ran. They ran after her.

When McCoy came to, he found himself looking into the tattoo-covered face of a vulcanoid being. He automatically jerked backwards, using the Force to try and push him away. However, Spock had been expecting it, and raised his own hand, slicing down in front of him, the push going out to either side uselessly. That was when McCoy noticed the honest concern in the black eyes and relaxed.

"Alright, you pointy-eared hobgoblin, where's Jim, where's the rest of them?'

Spock blinked, surprised, yet pleased that he seemed to be more interested in getting to the point than useless questions. All of this was, of course, closely hidden. McCoy never got a chance to register any of those thoughts. "Jim has gone with Nyota; they will likely be saving Christopher at this point…"

"'Christopher', huh? Seems like a certain lack of respect to me…" Spock's features tensed, and McCoy reminded himself that while the Vulcan was young, he was even younger by Vulcan standards, and he was reaching his limit. "What's the story behind all of that? I know that you're not on Nero's side…what was the plan?"

Spock tensed, and then slowly shook his head. "I am not at liberty to discuss it. Please, McCoy, I give you my word that I mean you no harm, but you must trust me. Should we get a chance later, I shall tell you, but for now there is too much to do. Can you walk?"

"Yes."

"I need you to help me get this ship ready for takeoff. I shall keep this part of the _Narada_ on loop surveillance; you must begin the start-up sequence. Is this agreeable?"

"Yeah, but we're not leaving without Jim."

"We will not leave until everyone returns."

"Does that include your older counterpart?"

Spock was silent for a moment, his eyes clouding slightly as he slipped into the stream of the Force, following the passages of time, tracing each lifesource he could find, right up until its end.

"His future remains uncertain," Spock finally answered quietly, running McCoy through the necessary sequences before the Jedi Knight could comment, and then leaving the ship to continue the surveillance loop.

McCoy desperately hoped that they wouldn't lose another Vulcan to that monster. But he didn't say a word, merely watched him go, before forcing himself upright and running through the steps Spock had given him.


	12. Probably Really Hurts You

Nero cried out angrily as Spock blocked yet another of his blows effortlessly, the half-Vulcan barely moving from that one spot, allowing the Romulan to come to him.

It was a strange technique, and one Nero had never encountered before, but in the safety of his own mind he had to admit that it was effective. He attempted to play the Vulcan's own game, but found that he simply didn't have the patience. He growled and decided to use his pike to his advantage, Spock might be patient; but he did not have the range. It was at the very moment Nero gripped the back end of the pike that Spock attacked.

The vicious blow almost made him drop his saber, and Nero desperately aimed a Force push at Spock's chest before the Vulcan's crimson blade could pierce through his torso. Spock didn't react to it as Nero hoped he would. Rather than struggle against it, he let it propel him to the back of the room, where he flipped, and vanished into the darkness. It took a moment before Nero finally began to laugh. He'd see how big the old man talked.

"I've got to hand it to you, old man, you are more of a trickster than I could have imagined. You wait until I change my weapon grip to try and knock it out of my hand and kill me. You use the shadows to your advantage, and have more patience than one could ever hope for. I can see how you were able to survive for so long. Lying and cheating. How many of your friends did you turn in to Vader to save your own skin?" he snarled, glaring around at the shadows.

"None." The sudden voice made Nero jolt. He started to turn around, only to have his head met hard by the butt of the saber. "Much more than I can say for you, Nero. You desire to fight me in the open, so be it, but you will not enjoy the consequences."

Nero turned to be faced by Spock shrugging his robe off, and that was the last full view he had.

Nyota crept into the water-filled chamber, Jim close behind, Scotty and Keenser off to the side, but still able to see. She waded through quietly, her eyes and ears trained for any hints of movement. Jim embraced the Force, letting it guide him.

When the young Jedi caught sight of Pike strapped to a table in the middle of the room, he reached out in the Force and, sensing nothing aside from that one form, ran. Nyota went to grab him, but didn't get a chance.

The others tensed for any sign of someone entering, but as Spock had said, there weren't many, if any, guards. Jim reached his bed and hurriedly stretched his hand out. "Pike? Com'on, Master Pike, wake up!"

He shook him slightly, and Christopher's eyes snapped open, his hand reaching up and gripping onto Jim's shoulder. Kirk tensed. "Master!" he finally bit out, and Christopher blinked, his eyes slightly foggy, before he seemed to shake himself out of it.

"Kirk?" he finally questioned wearily, meeting the blue eyes of McCoy's padawan blankly before a spark of familiarity appeared. "Jim, you're here!" He managed to give him a slightly weak smile. "Spock's plan worked," he finally whispered, and Jim gestured for Scotty to come over and help him. He ignored the small tear that slid down the master's face, ignoring the smile that touched his lips.

They tried to get him upright, only for Pike to let out a pained cry, "Shit, shit…we need Bones…"

"Bones?" Pike asked, an eyebrow rising.

"Um…inside thing, padawan/master privilege!" Jim hurried to reply, and then narrowed his eyes. "What did they do to you?"

"Torture, slow starvation…" he said softly. "Get me out of here; I don't think I can take it anymore."

With that simple statement, Scotty and Jim's eyes met and with a nod, they picked him up. Master Pike leaned on them heavily, and Jim didn't like the way his legs dragged, almost useless. "Can you walk?"

Pike gave him a weak smile. "I haven't been able to feel my legs for over a day."

Jim's eyes widened, but the both of them quickly hefted him higher, and began to follow Nyota, who had grabbed a blaster. She held it at the ready, and they hurriedly followed her deeper into the ship, twisting and turning as they went.

They finally came to the main hanger, and Scotty took one look, before his mouth dropped open and his eyes bugged out. "I think I'm in love…"  
…..

Nero blocked yet another heavy blow, and was launched backward with a force push, before a single red lightsaber was flung at him. He managed to roll with it, Spock merely using the Force to spin it around and launch it towards his back. He ducked, only to for a bony fist to hit him in the chin, sending him reeling backwards.

The lightsaber changed its trajectory, and only just avoided stabbing him in the side.

His eyes glanced from the red saber humming in the floor next to him, up to the half-Vulcan who stared calmly back, an eyebrow making the slow climb up his face. He didn't have a single hair out of place, though his tunic had several slices, but Nero knew that not a single one of them had sliced through to skin. Nero glared at him before letting out a low growl. He reached down, grabbing the lightsaber, and taking his pike he tried to stab the half-Vulcan, only for him to duck under it and close the gap between them, bringing his other blade up and managing to disarm its twin before grabbing it and slicing outwards.

Nero let out a pained shout as he felt his back cut open, the wound instantly cauterizing at the heat. Spock kicked him, and he fell forward.

Spock gave him a moment, standing calmly and silently, both lightsabers held in his hands, but deactivated.

Nero breathed in and out, and slowly stood up. He was glaring, and he finally whirled, his pike left alone, and his hand coming out, sending a wave of Sith lightning out at the half-Vulcan. Spock didn't even blink, the attack dissipating centimeters in front of his nose.

The Romulan didn't hesitate, ignoring the pain and running at him. It was not clear whether Spock had heard him or saw him coming, but he immediately launched himself into the air, up and over Nero. Both lightsabers activated and flew at him in an arc, one after the other, and Nero dove out of the way. The lightsabers flew back into the hands of their wielder as Nero rushed him, only for Spock to toss them to the side and use the Force to speedily throw them in a wide circle, nearly stabbing Nero through the side.

He brandished his pike in the moment Spock was without his sabers, the half-Vulcan ducking under the pike and knocking it out of the way, smashing the palm of his hand into Nero's diaphragm. The Romulan let out a choked gasp, but managed to punch him in the face. Spock stumbled back, a trickle of green blood sliding down from his lip. Nero gave him a sneering smile, before hefting his pike slightly.

He swung it, Spock ducking down and leaning backwards underneath the slice. There was a moment of complete and total silence when locks of hair fell down from what had been a ponytail, the slice having severed its base, barely brushing the top of Spock's head. They looked at the hair in silent surprise for a moment, before Spock reached his hand out, the lightsaber flying to his outstretched hand before using the Force to fling the hair into the Romulan's face.

Nero balked, but responded with a mental push in kind to shove him back, quickly following the attack, his pike held steadily in front of him. Spock stepped to the side, grasping the pike under his arm and yanking back, Nero falling closer to him. He pressed the hilt of his deactivated lightsaber to Nero's chest and ignited it.

The Romulan's eyes widened, his mouth opening in silent disbelief, green blood dribbling out.

Spock deactivated his saber and let go, shaking his head sadly and watching quietly as Nero collapsed onto his knees. With that he walked out, intent on reuniting with the others of his party. He would have to hurry.

He knew that the battle with Nero wasn't yet over.

…..

McCoy activated the last switch and the engine came to life with a thrum. Outside, Scotty gave a brief moan. "Just listen to that purr…"

Pike looked at the engineer that was staring at the ship in front of them and practically drooling with a raised eyebrow. If he wanted to, he could admit to seeing where he was coming from. It was a beautiful ship, sleek and elegant in design. It was obviously made in a similar fashion to the _Narada_, but the shape and size was wrong, more logical in design. It was Spock's ship, inside and out. Black and glossy, it would make an excellent stealth ship, even without a cloaking device.

"He is coming." The sudden voice made them all jump, and they whirled around, as best they could, to face the younger Spock. He had his back to them and was staring back the way that they had come.

"Who is?"

"My counterpart. We must hurry. Get Christopher into the ship; there is a back room. McCoy will have the medical supplies necessary, but hasten to tell him that he should be careful and it would be best to strap him to the bed. The artificial gravity is known to give out in that room; he will be able to strap his feet in." That said he gestured for them to hurry.

They did, running into the ship as fast as they could, considering the circumstances. Spock stood still, watching the door. A moment later the elder Spock entered, his hair chopped off unevenly, his clothes tattered, his lip bleeding, and his robe gone, but still in one piece, and walking on his own.

It was oddly gratifying to see that he was still alive, but he said nothing, and made no sign of that gratefulness to anyone but himself. The elder Spock said nothing, but the hint of a smile could be seen in his eyes. They nodded to each other, and the elder Spock moved to enter the ship. The younger walked over, reaching his hand out to the giant doors that sealed the 'shuttlebay' - even though most of the 'shuttles' were big enough to be their own ship, equipped with warp drive, transporters, and enough photon torpedoes to knock out a Klingon warbird - from the rest of the ship. Slowly, he closed his hand into a fist as though he was crumbling a sheet of paper into a ball.

In the inside of the ship a loud crumbling and squealing echoed. Those there turned to look out the viewscreen and watch in open-mouthed awe as Spock proceeded using the Force to crumble the large door. He turned back to his ship and entered, the door to the shuttle closing and sealing behind him, sitting down in the pilot seat, flicking buttons and switches, changing the thrum into more of a dull roar.

"You will want to brace yourselves." With this quiet warning, Spock flicked a few more switches, and the craft hovered off the ground and oriented itself towards the sealed exterior doors. There was a moment when all was still, and then the large ball of steel and titanium made from the interior door smashed into its counterpart at near lightning speed, a photon torpedo blast doing the rest of the job.

Within a second, they were launching out of the bay, Spock flicking the autopilot off as soon as they entered open space, pulling the two controls towards him, inserting his hands into them. Then they entered warp.

"SPOOOOCCKK!"

The group jumped in shock at the voice that emanated from the comm station, and the younger half-Vulcan looked at it, and then brought his fist down on it harshly. There was a moment of silence as they stared at the smoking and sparking ruin. Jim gave a slight smile. "I thought Vulcans didn't get angry…"

"We do not; I merely decided that it was highly distracting and therefore a logical decision to silence it."

"Suuuuurrreee…." Jim blinked in sudden realization and turned to look at the older Spock. "I thought you killed him!"

"I had thought so as well."

There was a moment of pure terror for several of them as various instruments went off suddenly, Spock easily and calmly flicking each and every one into proper position.

"Nero is following us."

"That's not good, that's not good; is it?" asked Scotty nervously.

"On the contrary, that is very 'good' as you put it."

"Why…"

"We need to get into open space."

"Why?"

"Trust me."

"What is it with you Vulcans and asking people to trust you?"

"It is much better than lying."

They didn't get a chance to react verbally, although the older Spock gave a slight smirk when Jim's mouth dropped open, and Scotty gave a snort of laughter, because at that moment they dropped out in open space. Spock pushed farther forward on the thrusters, his eyes focused, as they rapidly picked up speed.

They saw the reason for acceleration as Nero's massive vessel dropped out of warp. Cold hard terror filled their hearts at the sight of each individual arm breaking off the main body of the ship in a rush of plasma and speed. Each of them was bearing towards their much smaller ship.

"Oh, shit…"

"I recommend strapping yourself into your seats," the younger Spock said, ignoring the comment in favor of altering several more controls, raising the speed of the ship carefully, not too fast, and not too slow. They automatically complied, tugging their harnesses into place and grasping onto them tightly. Jim desperately hoped that his master had followed Spock's advice and strapped his feet to the floor. The sickbay was designed so everything would be in easy reach if they needed something. Pike would be secured anyway.

There was a moment when everything was still, and then their lasers and ships began firing at them. Spock pulled back on the controls, pivoting them harshly and they felt their stomachs fly up into their mouths as they faced the approaching storm, shields raised and at full power. But there were hundreds of fighters, and there was no way that they could survive.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Jim shouted out, his thoughts equally echoed by everyone as they stared into the approaching storm.

Spock reached into his robes and pulled out a small commlink with one hand while the other moved them into a spin, managing to avoid most of the fire. Next moment he pressed it, and two thirds of the attacking swarm disintegrated into shrapnel. "Oh, that's what you're doing…"

Spock pushed the ship into a dive, the remainder of the attack ships following after them. Their laser fire sparked along the shields, the half-Vulcan proceeding to throw the ship that - while definitely no shuttle pod - was dwarfed by the attack vessels, into twists and rolls. He finally managed to get behind some of them, and opened fire. It was then that they noticed that their laser fire was different, much more effective compared to their enemies' fire.

"What…" Scotty started quietly, pointing forward.

"No time for questions, shoot, shoot!" Jim shouted, pressing farther back in the seat and bracing himself. They did another dive and spin, Spock flipping another switch.

"I have a better idea." They watched in almost shock as the cargo bay doors opened, and there, right in front of them was the Jellyfish. Spock fired shot after shot, one making its mark. They watched for a total of two seconds as the ship began its slow destruction, and then they were gone, flipping around, and starting to enter warp.

They began to pick up speed, Uhura just having let out a sigh of relief, when they dropped back out. The ship rumbled as it tried to move, and they realized what the problem was. The black hole formed by the destruction of the Red Matter was sucking them in.

"Come on, you genius Vulcan! Get us the heck out of here!" Jim shouted, reaching out slightly.

"I am attempting to do so," Spock stated calmly, flipping more switches and pushing buttons in rapid succession. Then he paused and leaned back slightly; next moment the viewscreen began to crack under the pressure, the ship shaking with the dual forces tearing it apart.

"We are going to die…"


	13. Vulcans Do Feel

The ship strained against the pull, Spock wrestling with the controls as he attempted to break them out of it, finally giving up and setting their vessel on autopilot. He fired a few shots at the remaining attack ships, causing them to lose as much power to the thrusters as possible, pulling them back. Activating the dorsal viewscreen, Spock watched as remnants of Nero's armada were sucked into the black hole. His black eyes shone with the view, flicking back and forth as he took it in, and finally reverted the viewer and spun around in his chair.

"We cannot break free. The singularity is…more powerful than previously anticipated."

"NO SHIT, SHERLOCK!" The loud drawl made them all jump slightly, and they turned to look at McCoy, who they just now realized had been pressed against the far wall, unmoving, since they had dropped out of warp. His eyes were wide, his hair sticking up, and his fingers had managed to make a dent in the wall. It was times like these that McCoy wished he didn't have a phobia of flying.

"I am not Sherlock, and for that matter…"

"Shut up! Just…just…"

There was another crack, and they winced, aside from the two Vulcans, who merely looked at it with mild concern in their eyes. Spock switched from warp to thrusters in an attempt to keep the titanic forces from tearing them in half.

A moment later the humans looked at each other. "We're going to die, aren't we?" stated Uhura.

A muscle jumped slightly in Spock's jaw, and the older and younger met eyes for a moment, the beginnings of an idea dancing in black orbs. But there was something else there, a suspicion that it would do nothing, that they would not have the power. They were, after all, only half Vulcan.

They would have to try.

"Brace yourselves, this might be rather jarring, McCoy, I recommend that you sit down."

The Jedi Knight did so, locking himself into his harness as the two Vulcans moved to the back of the bridge, facing the general area of the black hole that was gaining power every passing second. They closed their eyes, slipping into the stream of the Force with the natural ease their species granted them.

The black hole was a heavy presence in front of them, an almost staggering emptiness and, due to its origins, completely unnatural. They reached out, slowly constructing a barrier between their ship and the black hole. Then, taking that barrier, they began to push against it, attempting to get their ship far enough away to break free.

The humans watched as they strained, hands slowly rising, channeling the power in a way they were more used to. Then they felt it. A slight shove which slowly turned into a rock and suddenly, with a jerk and a last crack from the viewscreen, they broke free of the gravitational pull.

The ship shot away from the black hole like a laser blast, sending the two Vulcans to the floor where they rolled and stood up with their backs to the wall, next to McCoy, who looked up at them with wide eyes, before shifting his eyes back to the front and joining the rest in a shout of surprise. Soon gravity caught up with their movement and they were all silent for a moment, before the humans and the small green alien began to cheer. Then suddenly the ship rocked, sparks flying, and the sound of a small explosion echoed out from the engine room.

The younger Vulcan's eyes widened as the ship abruptly dropped out of warp, and he bolted into the engine room, Scotty unbuckling himself and following after him. There were several thumps as a few droids were chucked out, accompanied by the loud shriek of tearing metal. What seemed like ages later, everything was silent, and Spock and Scotty walked out quietly. They looked at the droids, who slowly pushed themselves upright and then hurriedly scurried back into the engine room.

"Useless machines…"

"Indeed…"

Of those that remained on the bridge, Jim was the first to speak. "What happened?"

"A near core breach. It is being contained within a stasis field. The droids' repairs stopped it for a time, but had they left it as they did…it would have caused certain devastation." He paused for a moment, eyes spitting fire in an otherwise blank face. "However, this now leaves us without a warp core, and due to my…oversight, a complete lack of communications. We have no way to get Master Pike the medical attention he needs."

The good mood from escaping with their lives dissipated slightly at that. They deflated, looking at the half-Vulcan who moved forward to sit back in his pilot seat, setting the autopilot on a slow path to Coruscant. His eyes then focused on the damaged communications station and he moved to start removing the dented paneling.

Scotty walked over hesitantly and indicated it; "I could help ya with that…"

"You would need tools."

Scotty blinked, and nodded in understanding as Spock bent over it, eyes tracing wires and chips, the station reassembling itself easily. He gave a brief glance at the panel, and it popped back into shape. He grabbed it and fitted it in gently.

"Will it work?"

"Unfortunately, I do not expect it to."

"Then…why?"

"It was a hazard," Spock responded shortly, pressing on it harder. The metal creaked and he let go, backing up slightly. Jim watched him closely, and recognized the signs of a man on the edge of collapse.

His master saw it too: the tensing and slight shake in his shoulders, the eyes dull and listless, something of a shock compared to the fire earlier. It wasn't healthy, even for a Vulcan. He was on the verge of collapse, the edge of his endurance fraying. McCoy knew that he would be able to recover if he just let go and slipped off, but currently it was impossible to tell him that.

The young Vulcan turned to regard them all quietly, eyes flitting from face to face before he turned around and left. A moment later a protocol droid shuffled in, quietly moving to stand before the humans. "The ship has engaged autopilot; there is no need for any of you to remain. I shall show you to quarters and the various things that you might need on our journey."

That was the last any of them saw Spock for some time. The older half-Vulcan appeared worried, but he had been weaker than he had originally let on. He had retreated to his quarters to meditate, and supposedly the younger was doing much the same, but they did not know that. In fact, the younger was unable to meditate. The younger was unable to do much of anything.

His mind was wild.

Ruthless.

It had been so quick. The entirety of his life since the age of nine had been leading up to the destruction of Nero. He had spent those years playing the role of a spy and a double agent. He knew that if he hadn't been so well trained in the Vulcan arts that he would have never succeeded. He had paid sweat, and blood, and - in a rare quiet moment when he was younger - tears. Now it was over before it even really began to seem like time. Nothing felt resolved. Nothing felt gone. And while his Vulcan half had rebelled against the feelings that choked his mind and soul, the human side had taken over, his more logical Vulcan half hiding.

He had lost more and more of that half with the very first burn placed on his flesh. Romulan tattoos covered him. Romulan customs had been his own. Romulans had been his acquaintances. A Romulan had been his mentor.

He had invested so much time and so much effort into Nero's downfall that, now that he was gone, he didn't know what to do. It was with this in mind that his wandering started.

It took several weeks before any of them saw the young Spock, and when they did, it was McCoy and Jim. It was also a complete accident. They had been in the observation deck when Spock entered. He looked horrible. McCoy was automatically tracing his eyes over the mussed-up hair, the greenish bags under those dull eyes, the slight stoop to his posture...he cataloged various medical concerns as he saw them.

Jim, on the other hand, was focused on the eyes, dull and weary with nary a bit of focus in them. He read the sadness, the pain, and the loss within them.

He'd had a bit of a friendship with the teen before the shit hit the fan, and he had to admit to finding the young Vulcan incredible. He was someone he looked up to, someone that he wanted to be friends with, and seeing him like that…

Jim looked at his master, his eyes pleading with him for something. But McCoy had never been telepathic, and Jim was sometimes beyond even his understanding, and he'd been the boy's mentor since Jim was ten. After searching Leonard's eyes for understanding that wasn't coming, Jim narrowed his own eyes and turned to look at Spock. "So, how does it feel now that Nero's gone?"

Spock almost, but not quite flinched, eyes closing slightly before turning to look at Jim. Even when he looked at Nero there hadn't been that much rage and fear in them.

"Oh come on, don't look at me like that; you have to feel something. I mean, he was your master. Actually, that's an interesting thought. How did it feel, bowing to him every day?"

Spock's nostrils flared slightly, his eyes narrowing darkly, almost unnoticeably, but Jim was paying closer attention. Jim hesitated before plowing on. "Or did you not care? Did you grow to think that you were doing the right thing? Did you like it when Master Pike was broken? Did you like it when he killed your planet; did you like it when he killed your mother?"

There was a moment of complete and total shock, and then everything exploded. One moment Jim had been standing there looking defiant, the next moment he had been slammed into the window behind him, then slammed to the floor, and all by the half-Vulcan who stood there with his teeth bared and his eyes flaming. He brought his hand out and closed it slightly, limblessly lifting the young padawan up into the air. His fingers let go as Jim struggled slightly, but then the top two squeezed tight.

It was in that moment that Jim truly, deeply feared for his life. Even with the Romulans he'd had some chance to escape, but now, he had no chance. The Vulcan was stronger than him in the ways of the Force; even with the Romulans he had his wits, and he had escaped from them. Here with his airway constricting, and the half-Vulcan livid and glaring, he almost wished to take it back, to find another way. But if his master had taught him anything it was that you couldn't leave stuff like that bottled up inside, and if this was his last act, making him realize how much he was repressing himself….

"SPOCK!"

That sudden voice seemed to make Spock flinch, and then he returned to himself. His hand relaxed, and he backed away hurriedly, eyes wide and focused on Jim's limp body as he fell to the ground and desperately clutched at his throat. McCoy looked at eyes filled with nothing but pain, fear, and despair, before Spock turned away and ran.

In that moment McCoy realized exactly what the Vulcan was going through, and when he crouched down next to Jim his eyes spoke of nothing more than disappointment and concern. Jim turned his head away with a final cough and curled himself up. When Leonard helped him to his feet, Jim felt like vomiting.

"Master…I'm sorry…"

"Don't tell it to me, kid…don't tell it to me."


	14. Pain

Spock sat in the far corner of his room, eyes locked on the small candle in the middle of the floor. His eyes stared unseeing at the flickering flame; he was blind to it, blind to his mind, blind to his soul. He hurt. He needed to meditate, but he was unable to find his center. It was all jumbled in a tangle of confusion and dissatisfaction. It was not logical. How could he call himself Vulcan when he wore the tattoos of _that_ race? How could he ever look his father in the eye again?

The thought made his eyes drift closed and his lips purse. You could not remove a Vulcan from their family; mental bonds connected every member. Often times the bond was tentative, but it was there. He had been blocking the bond to his father for years, but it had taken every effort. He wanted to speak to him, and as illogical as it was, he wanted him to be proud. But he was falling from grace. He had been falling for years. Now it felt like he had finally lost his place.

He cursed his human half bitterly, but the thought of cursing his mother…his mind's endless circling was interrupted by a knock on his door. His eyes flickered up to stare at it, quietly considering the consequences should he not open it. A moment later the door slowly opened, and McCoy stood there, looking around at the darkness and the lone candle in the center. He almost jumped at the sight of black eyes peering at him, reflecting the only light in the room.

McCoy gave a brief snort and barked, "Lights fifty percent." The ruddy light that filled the room was different than he was used to, but he equated it to probably being Vulcan's natural state. The desert planet with little atmosphere. The planet that was gone now. That in mind he took a careful step, unsurprised at the sudden increase of gravity.

Spock's eyes were flashing warnings at him, his expression otherwise set in stone. McCoy ignored it, simply walking forward until he could sit in front of the half-Vulcan, carefully avoiding the candle. "So…I take it you're feeling rather depressed?" he asked, indicating the candle, the darkness that he had been sitting in, and his position. His unassuming face and the honesty in his eyes prompted Spock to answer quietly.

"On the contrary, I was trying to narrow my focus," he said quietly. "I…have been unable to meditate. I find that it sometimes helps to narrow my perception onto one object and let everything else fade in what way I can…it was a suggestion my mother made."

That last revelation almost made McCoy flinch. He had practically insulted the boy's mother. "I'm sorry about your mother. I understand that…you felt when she died."

Spock looked off the side. "As my mother was human, her bond with me was not as strong as that belonging to a full Vulcan such as my father. But it was there. I felt when the bond was severed. I felt her panic, and I felt when it cut off."

Leonard stared at him, eyebrows knitting together slightly. "I'm sorry, kid. I wish that I could say that I understand…but I've never had something like that happen to me before. Not in that way."

"You are human; you would not understand that aspect of Vulcan abilities."

McCoy nodded slowly and then cleared his throat slightly. "I do know what it means to lose someone though. Someone you were close to."

Spock looked up at him, his eyes narrowed, before they widened in comprehension. "You are trying to provide common ground in a way to attempt to bridge the gap that would otherwise be found in any discussion you would have with me. That is logical."

McCoy blinked and then grinned. "Glad you approve. So…do you want to talk or let me continue to try and flounder looking for conversation openers?"

Spock's eyebrow rose slightly. "I do not know what it is that you would wish to talk to me of."

"How about…Nero." He held up a hand when Spock stiffened. "Now wait, hold on; I don't need or want you to discuss anything that you feel uncomfortable with. I don't need to know what you were forced to do under his orders; I don't need to know that you regret each and every moment. I'm interested in the little things. Like how did the others under his command treat you, how often did you eat, did he spar with you? You know…that kind of stuff."

Spock was silent, black eyes staring out of a burn-stained face, and that made McCoy pause before offering a compromise. "But before we do any of that…what do you say about getting those Romulan markings off of you?"

Spock's eyes widened and Leonard smiled at him encouragingly. It was obvious the thought hadn't even occurred to him, and McCoy didn't press, didn't say a word, just let the Vulcan contemplate his offer. Finally, slowly, Spock looked at him directly, and nodded. He didn't say anything, McCoy thought that his voice might have betrayed him, but he smiled and helped him up, and led him to the sickbay.

Once there McCoy Force-pulled the dermal regenerator to him, and indicated the biobed next to Pike. "You'll have to take your shirt off."

Spock complied and easily slid onto the biobed. McCoy took a moment to simply stare at all the burns, noting some places where the skin had tightened as he grew.

"When I was nine."

"What?"

"It happened when I was nine."

The horror that Leonard felt wasn't hinted at, but in the safety of his own mind he screamed in fury. The fact that those marks had been applied when he was…his eyes widened. "You were nine?" he finally choked out.

"Yes."

"Why…why were you out on your own?"

Spock looked to the side quietly and then met his gaze evenly. "Pike sent me to talk to one of the only Vulcan Jedi Masters. He believed that it would be something from which I would benefit. He was called away on another mission and he left me with another Jedi. I was on my way back to the rendezvous point, when I felt it."

His voice trailed off, and he took a breath before continuing quietly. "I begged them to head to Vulcan; they…were quick to respond after they realized that I would have a mental connection with the Vulcans on it, and therefore the planet. When we arrived…Nero was there. The fleet was destroyed. Nero…boarded the ship. He slaughtered everyone. Then he found me. At first…at first he was going to simply kill me. It might be illogical, but I sometimes wish that he had. Instead he tried to turn me against my master, turn me against everything I had been trained to believe. You must understand that a Vulcan's mental development is much more accelerated than a human's, while our physical development is much slower. I…I was aware of the fact that I wanted nothing more than to see that Romulan dead, and I knew that I would never be able to do it as I was. I had watched him kill Master Sifu, my Vulcan master, in front of me. So I agreed. I would bide my time, and I would find a way to destroy him."

He paused for a moment. "Master Pike did not know of my continued existence until I made contact when I was eleven. When he learned…I had never seen a human cry before."

McCoy was shaking, but his hands were steady as the dermal regenerator went over the burns, carefully eliminating the ones on his torso before having him roll over onto his stomach so he could deal with the ones on his back. He didn't react at the marks of abuse that covered the half-Vulcan. His mind was cataloguing horror after horror and staring at the young padawan in slow comprehension and sympathy. He refused to offer him pity. When the last mark was gone, McCoy felt a rush of pure vindictive hatred for the bastard who'd made them, and a slow swell of satisfaction that he was dead and gone.

Spock slowly sat up and looked down at skin that was white and whole as it had once been so many years ago. He looked up at the Healer slowly. "There is a reason that we do not show emotion, McCoy. Should we lose control…we can do things like what you saw done to your own apprentice. Only most of my race would not have stopped. So we are taught how to repress them, and the lessons we are given are not only important, they are necessary. We do not speak of them lightly, and any indication of these emotions…those moments of lack of control are considered to be nothing more than failures. Understand then, that I deeply…regret…harming your apprentice, and that I thank you for removing those marks, and listening."

McCoy looked at him closely and shook his head. "You're welcome; I can't tell you that I know what you're going through, and that things will get better…because I can't. I don't know. But I will tell you that you control whether things get better or not. I promise that if you ever need to talk to someone…and you feel that you can't talk to your master, I'm here. I'm sworn to secrecy on the health of my patients _and_ their secrets. I won't tell anyone."

Spock nodded and accepted his tunic back, tugging it on easily. McCoy took a look at the paleness of Spock's face in comparison to the black and gave a slight smile. "We really need to get you in some sun."

He tried to hide it, but McCoy could see that the thought of that was appealing. "How long were you stuck on that ship?"

"Not as long as I have been stuck on this one."

"Tatooine wasn't your first visit planet side in nine years was it?" Leonard asked suddenly, and Spock blinked before tilting his head in a negating fashion, making McCoy relax.

"My first in three."

That made McCoy sputter in surprise and swear, causing Spock to raise an eyebrow in response, a tiny flash of amusement in his eyes.

He looked to Pike and sighed, and patted the biobed next to Spock, raising an eyebrow at him. Spock looked at it and then scooted over slightly so McCoy could sit next to him.

"What did they do to him?"

Spock flinched at that, and Leonard looked at him, meeting his eyes squarely when Spock turned to stare at him. "I did it. I…tore into his mind. I told them the codes. We were…they were…"

It was that hesitation that made everything click. "You're feeling guilty."

Spock stared at him helplessly. "The breach of another's mind is nothing less than the most hideous and grievous rape that can be dealt to someone. I…ripped his defenses to shreds. I am unaware of the damage I did. I committed a crime that is punishable by death on my home planet."

The tone of voice he used was enough to make McCoy desperately wish to embrace the teen. Jedi were taught not to love, this was true, but the bond between padawan and master ran deep, as sort of surrogate fathers and sons. It was unheard of to have two padawans, but McCoy knew with a type of convoluted amusement that he was well on his way to giving Jim a 'brother'.

Damn, did he feel old…

"What were your orders when bringing Pike to Nero?"

"I…I was told that I was to do whatever he requested of me without hesitation."

"Okay, and did Nero ask you to destroy Pike's defenses?"

"…yes…"

"I know that it doesn't make you feel like you were justified in any way, but I have to admit that I'm glad that you're so reviled with yourself. It means you aren't lost yet. It means that you can bounce back, and I'm absolutely positive that you will. You're Vulcan. You aren't even close to being a young adult in your years. You have plenty of time; just don't forget to give it to yourself. You aren't perfect; don't expect it from yourself."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I am quite aware that I am not perfect; it is impossible for any being to be perfect. However, considering that I am the first of my kind to live past the age of two, it is possible that I am the first perfect example."

McCoy snorted and cuffed him, only just realizing what he had done when a pair of wide black eyes regarded him in surprised confusion. He gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I got carried away…"

Spock's eyes blinked a few times and McCoy watched in almost shock as a small, nearly invisible smile touched his lips, and his eyes gradually changed from the black that he was used to, to a deep chocolate brown. "That is quite alright, Master; I understand that this happens to humans often."

"Why you…" He went to hit him again, and Spock slid from the bed, his eyes positively laughing at him.

"If you will excuse me, I must go find your apprentice, I must apologize, I believe…" He paused in front of the door and turned to look at him quietly. "Thank you."

McCoy waved him off with a smile, looked at Pike, and gave a sigh. "I'll tell you when he's awake."

With that Spock gave one last nod and left to find Jim. He sincerely hoped that it wouldn't involve any more 'heart to heart's'; while he had to admit to finding the talk with McCoy helpful, he did not think he could take any more for a few days.

Or years…


	15. Amusement

Spock wandered the ship quietly, looking for a sign of Jim anywhere.

He had to admit his lack of surprise in finding it so difficult to locate the young padawan. He had observed that Jim seemed to be the type who could smuggle himself anywhere and cause others to not mention seeing him. As it was, he was somehow unsurprised when he found him in the engineering bay. The boy was tinkering with one of the panels, one of the droids hovering over him and desperately trying to get him to stop.

In a quiet corner of his mind, Spock was slightly amused at where he found him. He leaned on the doorway with a raised eyebrow, watching as Jim tried to fend off the droid and at the same time try to tighten a few bolts. A moment later the droid noticed him and jumped back slightly with a soft 'oh!' Jim automatically jerked upright to see what the problem was, and banged his head on the underside of the console, letting out a shout as he did so. Spock's eyebrows knitted slightly. Jim let out a curse, his head in his hands before he slid out.

"I apologize; it seems I now have more to ask your forgiveness for more than simply strangling you."

Jim laughed at that, and cleared his throat before shaking his head. "No…you're good. Really, I…kind of was expecting for you to blow up anyway." Jim smiled when both the droid and Spock exhibited about the same degree of confusion. "I mean get angry, chuck me around a little…you know."

"Ah…yes. I suppose I did 'blow up', as you put it."

"Did it help?"

Spock blinked at him and tilted his head. "On the contrary, I have never been quite as…" His voice trailed off, and he looked to the side a little. Jim automatically spat out the first thing that came to mind.

"How did you get Master Pike?"

Spock automatically turned to face him, an eyebrow rising. "I do not understand…"

"I mean…when you managed to get him off the ship…how did you do it under Yoda's nose?"

Spock gave a brief sound of understanding. "I incapacitated him before I made the attempt."

Jim spluttered, "What? That's impossible! No one can defeat Master Yoda!"

Spock raised an amused eyebrow. "Not in a direct fight, but when he is not expecting it…"

"No one can slip one by him either!"

"It can be done."

"No it can't."

"Yes it can."

"Uh-uh."

"…" He just raised an eyebrow at Jim, and the blond-haired teen gave him a smirk.

"Alright, you think you're so special…prove it."

"I am unaware of the way that I can 'prove it', as you say. He is now aware of my ability to do such a thing."

Jim was quiet for a moment and then looked up at him. "Do that…mind meld thing…"

The look of shock that slid across Spock's face was enough to make Jim realize that that might not have been the great suggestion he thought it had been.

"Um…is that taboo or something?"

Spock nodded in a semi-affirming fashion, but his eyes were fixed on Jim as though he was a bug that he was unable and possibly unwilling to classify. "It is not something that is done lightly…"

"And proving that you can drop Master Yoda is a _light_ thing? Come on! I swear it doesn't have to be deep or anything…just…let me see. You can do that, right?"

"I am able."

"Well come on…it won't hurt you…"

"It may hurt you."

"Your counterpart did it."

"My counterpart is not only older than I am, he is much more experienced. Jim…I fail to see how that is a good reason why I should…"

"Either do it or I'll call you a liar."

"Vulcans cannot lie…"

"Rubbish."

"We cannot."

"Then prove it."

Spock blinked, looking at him in confusion. They had a quiet stand-off, both of them standing with a fixed determination shining in their eyes; one face with a cocky smile, the other blank. A moment later Spock let out a soft exhalation that was almost like a sigh. "You will not permit me to refuse?"

"Not a chance."

"My last meld with a human resulted in Master Pike's current plight." His voice was quiet, and Jim blinked, then shook his head.

"You didn't have a choice; am I right?"

"Yes…"

"Then it won't matter. Come on. I just want to see…I'll tell McCoy."

"…Was that supposed to be a threat?"

"…Did it work?"

"Not at all."

"Oh come on, it won't kill you, will it?"

"It is unlikely to kill me, but should I lose control, it is possible it would kill you."

Jim looked at him in annoyance. "Stop being a killjoy; I wanna see."

Spock let out a brief sigh, but brought his hand up. Jim waited expectantly as the fingers pressed onto his face and a slow presence began pushing at the edges of his mind, uncurling slightly and pressing in.

_It was much more tentative and soft than the other he had felt, less certain of what he was doing, much more wary about causing him pain._

_**'Relax, Spock; I promise I'm not gonna break. Come on, now…show me. While you're at it, show me the plan of attack you had… Pike mentioned that it was your**__**idea.'**___

A slight feeling of irritation mixed with amusement and resignation filtered through to him, and then he was floating in a room, surveying Spock, Master Pike, and Master Yoda.

The small green alien was off to the side a little, watching Spock and Pike embroiled in an argument. Master Pike was close to raising his voice, and Jim was beyond surprised. He had never seen the man angry before. Not to that extent. Spock was regarding him with a clinical air, and Jim felt a bolt of amusement at realizing that Spock could annoy even his own master.

"Spock, this…this won't work. You can't hide that much from him."

"I can. I have been doing it for years. I began when I was nine. I can certainly do it now."

"Chosen already, the path is…" Yoda said softly, breaking through the argument that had obviously gone on longer than Spock was showing him. "Requesting his other master, Nero is… To avoid suspicion, comply Spock must."

"But…"

"Trust your apprentice." A simple clear statement that made both of them, Spock in the memory and Jim in the meld, jolt with surprise. "However, if he believes that to defeat me, easy it will be? Mistaken he is. Fight him I will. For the illusion to be complete, defeated I must be…"

Spock didn't say a word, for a moment simply regarded him silently. Then, in an instant, he launched himself forward, bringing his hand down and gripping the ancient Jedi Master's small shoulder. Yoda's already-large eyes widened, before he collapsed in a heap.

Pike stared at the small bundle in absolute shock that Jim felt flooding his own system. "What?"

Before he could say another word, Spock had drawn his saber and leveled it at his master's chest. "I must ask that you trust me…please…I can do this; you must believe me. I have trained for this moment. I will send McCoy and Kirk to the planet; they will intercept the one Nero is waiting for. Please, my master. Understand that I will only ever bow to you with honesty."

Pike gave him a soft pained smile and nodded. "Alright. Alright. I know when I'm beat. You have my permission. I'll go, we'll make one last effort, and this time we'll beat him. I trust you Spock, and I'm proud of you. Remember to follow any command he gives you. Anything. Even if it means hurting me. So long as you remain safe I don't care. Your mother would be proud of her son."

Spock stared at him quietly, then deactivated the lightsaber, delivering a similar pinch to Pike as he had to Yoda. A hypo was then pulled from the black robes and injected into Pike's neck. His head bowed in respect for the two fallen masters before he hefted Pike over his shoulder and left.  
  
Jim came out of the meld laughing hysterically and Spock quirked an eyebrow in response. "YOU PINCHED HIM!" he finally gasped out amidst laughter.

"It is known as a Vulcan nerve pinch. A human is unable to perform one, as it is closely interlaced with our telepathy."

"Damn, I was going to ask you to teach me that," Jim grinned when he gained control. "Still hysterical though. I am never going to let Master Yoda live it down."

Spock allowed a slight smirk to turn up the corner of his mouth. "I do not believe he will be appreciative…"

"Oh lord, I have to tell McCoy! He'll get a huge kick out of it…"

"I do not understand…"

Jim just laughed and ran out.

"It is obviously some human idiosyncrasy." The slightly tinny voice made Spock blink and turn to regard the droid standing next to him quietly. "They are a remarkably arbitrary species."

Spock stared at it calmly. "Indeed."

"A most curious species indeed…

Spock inclined his head in agreement, and the both of them continued to stare after the reckless padawan who practically flew through the halls, two heads cocking to the side in sync.

In the corner, Scotty couldn't help but laugh. He was a good kid. He'd be okay.


	16. Pride

It took another day before their ship was found by Sulu and Chekov, who approached understandably cautiously. Master Yoda had managed to track their Force signatures and soon their struggling ship was pulled into tow by the Carrack Light Cruiser.

Spock quietly apologized for the damage when he saw the two who commanded the vessel, giving a quiet explanation. When it was understood that the Vulcan and the rest of the ragtag group had destroyed Nero, they laughed and practically assaulted the Vulcan with handshakes and hugs of congratulations.

Spock had turned the strangest shade of green they had seen at the handshakes, but had tolerated it stoically. Especially since a laughing Jim had been pulled into the same treatment.

McCoy had given them a glare that warded the pair off, and they had backed away warily. The entire group was just happy to be on the path back to Coruscant at more than a crawl.

The word spread quickly of Nero's demise and the galaxy breathed a collective sigh of relief. Then the celebrations began. Word spread that the heroes responsible were returning home. When it was revealed that one of them was a Vulcan, the media went insane.

Spock had retreated at the interest. He knew with tired certainty that the celebration and interest would only grow as they returned. Triumphant. Happy.

Neither of which he was able to feel. He was no longer as weary as he had been before, but he was unwilling to take the scrutiny that would be involved. He knew that sooner or later his father would hear of it. He also knew that they would soon learn that he had been spying on Nero; he had to admit to being afraid of their reaction, and the possible overwhelming gratitude that would come with it.

Jim had been mildly jealous at first, but when he realized exactly how much Spock was dreading it, and was perfectly willing to share the glory, he began talking to his master about a way to keep Spock away from the public eye for a while. At least until the hype boiled down to a manageable level.

Spock was quietly grateful. He didn't say it, but it showed in the quiet gestures he made. Especially as he quietly tuned their lightsabers. They had never been easier to handle, and their effectiveness was doubled.

The young Vulcan's older counterpart hadn't been seen for a few days; they respected his wish to be left alone. Understanding the fact that he had landed in an alternate dimension, and would likely never be able to return home, would make him likely - for a Vulcan - unfit to be seen.

They reached Coruscant to thunderous applause and joy. Salutes were made, and they came to the Jedi Temple with their heads held high, Spock's ship still in disarray towed behind them. They came out of the ship, greeting the Jedi High Council, the large array of Senators, and Supreme Chancellor Valorum. They bowed, waited for reactions and regarded them with a quiet professionalism that most of them did not feel.

Spock Prime did not show up for that assembly; they didn't know where he went, but no one expected to see him for some time. Pike was carried out on a stretcher, the Jedi, senators, and Chancellor saluting, a hero's honor. The crowd dispersed after the Jedi Council requested to talk to the ones that had succeeded in vanquishing Nero.

Jim and McCoy were unsurprised when they zeroed in on Spock, and backed away quietly, ready to leave, before they were signaled to follow as well. They were led into the main chamber, back to where their adventure had started. Only this time, Spock was the one standing in the center, facing the unwavering stares of the Council.

Master Windu began, "Padawan Spock, you have been called here to discuss your ability to continue training in the Jedi Arts."

Spock's hands tightened behind his back, the eyes that had so recently gained their chocolate color turning black. McCoy and Jim straightened up, ready to intervene when a look by the head of the council silenced them.

"Spock, you have done well, exceedingly well, but you have broken your master, and fallen into hate and fear, and from what we understand, terrible anger. We are unaware if you should be allowed to continue your training. You have fallen into the dark side of the Force."

Spock inclined his head. "I have studied it." A hand was raised, and his fingers spread, Sith lightning crackling between them and dancing across his palm. Jim and McCoy watched the display with quiet amazement, and minute apprehension. "But I am Vulcan. One cannot expect to separate me from the Force, the dark side, or the light. You are aware of this."

Their eyes were locked on that lightning, but they nodded.

Ki-Adi Mundi spoke next. "We are aware. But this does not change the fact that we accepted you with the understanding that you would not fall into that path." The Cerean Master paused, and then continued slowly, "You have done more than fall. You chose to follow Nero under your own free will; you broke Master Pike's mind. This was your choice, your revenge."

Spock was silent, and then inclined his head. "Understood. Am I to be removed?"

Jim and McCoy were silent with shock, listening to their conversation with wide eyes, unable to muster up words past their shock to defend him. In order to stop the insanity that was unfolding before them. They couldn't get rid of him, they couldn't.

"No. But to become a Jedi you are not," said Yoda.

"Not yet," continued Master Windu. "We cannot trust you. Not when you have fallen so far. But your master is no longer able to train you, and no one else will take you."

"Now just hold on one moment! What the hell do you mean no one will take him?" McCoy snapped out. He had gained control of his shock, and his arms were crossed in front of his chest, his expression deadly and intent, his feet planted firmly.

Yoda had the slightest hint of a smile on his face at hearing McCoy's response, but neither the irate Jedi Knight nor his padawan noticed; they were both glaring at the masters.

"If all the kid needs is a guide, then hell, anyone could take him. He doesn't _need_ it; you could put that kid through the Trials right now, and he'd be of more use to the Order than anyone you've seen. I've seen that kid in action; you'd be fools to drop him like this."

"Is that your personal opinion, Healer?" inquired Master Mundi.

McCoy stiffened. "Personal and professional. He's done his explosion of anger and turmoil. He's _fine_. All you need to do is let him be. Hell, if all you think he needs is a guide, then I can do it. Stick him with me; I'll make sure the kid stays on the right path."

Jim straightened slightly, flashed a grin at his master and then turned his attention back to the council, his own stance defiant.

"You would act as a counselor to him?"

McCoy's look was one of surprise, but then he blinked and his stance squared. "Sure. If he'll take me."

"Take issue with this, does your padawan?" They turned to regard Jim as one, the young padawan straightening uneasily once their attention was on him.

"It's not like my master will be training him, just sort of acting his conscience," Jim shrugged, then continuing quietly, "Not that Spock will need it anyway."

Spock was looking at the both of them in full-on surprise, which was quickly hidden, but was easily readable nonetheless. Jim gave McCoy a look and shrugged.

"Why the hell not? He deserves a chance to become a knight. I don't mind."

They then turned to regard Spock himself. "Will you accept Knight McCoy as a mentor? Not your master. Consider him an advisor."

Spock looked at Bones with eyes that held nothing more than the deepest of unease. "Masters, with all due respect, I believe that I can…"

"Accept the offer, hobgoblin," McCoy whispered at him harshly, below the hearing level of a human ear. "It's not like I'm going to make you accept everything I say."

Yoda was perfectly able to hear him, but he made no sign of it, a small secretive smile hovering on his lips.

Spock paused and then took a deep breath. "Accept these terms. I will defer to his judgment."

"So be it. One year of observation."

"One year."

"You have done well. All of you. You are dismissed."

They left. Spock was subdued, and he looked at the both of them quietly.

"I believe you are 'stuck with me', as you say, for a period of one year."

"Well, think of it like this. At least they didn't make it five," McCoy grumbled out. He was pacing in front of them, and then he turned to look at Spock and his eyes held sympathy, but also anger. "It's bullshit what they're doing to you. There's absolutely no need for you to be placed 'under observation'. You're aware of that, aren't you?"

"I am."

"Good. Keep it that way."

Jim and McCoy looked at each other and then to Spock. "Well, I suppose we'll show you around a bit. It's been a few years since you've been here; I'm guessing you wouldn't mind a refresher of what's around?

"I would appreciate...that, yes. Thank you."

"It's no problem. We already decided you'd wind up joining our little rag-tag group of insanity anyway."

"Indeed?"

"Yep. We were right."

"So it would seem."

They made their way out of the Jedi Temple, only to halt at the sight of an aged Vulcan standing at the far edge of it. He had his hands clasped behind his back in a very traditional, yet slightly familiar pose. His hair was silver, and his stature and position were somehow familiar. But it was his face that made them realize exactly who they were looking at.

The nose and the cheekbones both were Spock's features, and they realized that they were staring at the half-Vulcan's father. A Vulcan who had dared to love a human.

Spock blinked, and took a slow step forward, something in his eyes reflecting profound happiness. But it was Sarek's reaction that they really noticed. It was all subtle clues, barely noticeable except for the fact that they had learned how to read a Vulcan.

Relief, mixed with joy, and a type of aching sadness and happiness shone in those eyes. Spock walked forward briskly until he was standing in front of his father.

Sarek looked him over quietly for what Jim and McCoy realized was the first time in likely eighteen years. Nine of which Spock had likely been considered dead by his family.

A moment later, their hands moved out, pressing onto the meld points, and two pairs of eyes closed. When they opened again, they said more than any words ever could. But Sarek had one thing to say.

"I am proud of you, my son. You have done well."


	17. Epilogue: Satisfaction

Spock fell into their group with an ease born of belonging there his whole life. His reunion with his father was never spoken of, but the moment thought of often. Eighteen years was a long time to think that your only flesh and blood was gone.

He had become an invaluable asset in the underworlds of Coruscant, slipping in far better than Jim or McCoy ever could. They'd doubled their practice of being healers, and tripled their ability to act as keepers of the peace.

McCoy admitted to being absolutely shocked as he was called yet again to rescue Jim from the usual crowd of angry mobsters, only to find the group of them unconscious and a Vulcan wielding a double-bladed lightsaber standing atop the pile, his eyes glinting. He had stepped into the role of an older brother, and McCoy knew that anyone who threatened his young apprentice would be snapped up into the fury that Spock was able to command.

Jim allowed it to happen, somehow knowing that he needed to work up to protecting the galaxy instead of destroying it. He hadn't used the Sith lightning since he had demonstrated his ability to the Council, but Jim never stopped asking him to.

McCoy found it absolutely hysterical. In fact, that was how he found most of their antics, but he would never tell them that. He had an image and reputation to protect, after all. He allowed them to string him along on whatever the hell they wished, always there to pull them out whenever they managed to fall too deep. It was a routine, it was a way of life, it was family.

Damn, did he feel old.

…

In one of the tallest buildings of Coruscant, an aged man stood calmly. He had pointed ears, slanted eyebrows, and silver hair that was pulled back into a small ponytail. He also had a small silver goatee. He wore robes that placed him as what he obviously was, Vulcan.

On the far end of the platform was a delegation of senators and ambassadors assembled from different systems, each of them discussing the repercussions of Nero's death.

Another older man walked past him on the way to join the rest of the group. His hair was a graying brown, short, and his face was deeply lined. He had a look of enthusiasm and youth that was left for people half his age.

Spock looked at him and gave him a nod. "Senator Palpatine."

Palpatine turned to look at him, and smiled at him, "Ah, Ambassador Salek. I trust you found your way here easily?"

"I am Vulcan."

Palpatine laughed at that, nodding. "Of course. I am pleased to have you as an assistant to Naboo. We are deeply indebted to your proposed services."

"Anything that I may do to help."

"Of course. Shall we introduce you to the others?"

"Thank you."

The two men walked forward into the meeting hall, both of them hiding secrets, one of them holding all the answers.


End file.
